


The Red Queen Chronicles: The Lost Son

by MarvelMaster616



Category: Spider-Man (Comicverse), Spider-Man - All Media Types, X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Gen, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2019-05-19 12:55:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 56,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14874152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarvelMaster616/pseuds/MarvelMaster616
Summary: Sequel to "The New Red Queen." When Logan disappears on a trip to Japan, Jean Grey enlists her fellow Hellfire Queens, Emma Frost and Mary Jane Watson, to rescue him. Along the way, though, they encounter unexpected figures from his past, including a long lost son named Daken.





	1. Chapter 1

** The Red Queen Chronicles: The Lost Son  
Chapter 1: Surprise Reunion **

* * *

**AN: This story is based off my “The New Red Queen” series. Mary Jane Watson is the Red Queen and general manager of the Hellfire Club. Emma Frost is the White Queen. Jean Grey is the Black Queen and Cyclops is the Black King. In terms of the timeline, this takes place after the events of “The Red Queen Chronicles: The Leader.”**

_‘These mean character thoughts or psychic communication.’_

**Disclaimer: I don’t own Spider-Man, Mary Jane Watson, the X-men, SHIELD, Daken, Wolverine, the Avengers, or Marvel and I am making no money off this. They are the property of Stan Lee, Marvel, and Disney. Please don’t sue.**

**This fic contains graphic sexual content, more so than usual. There will be some elements of this story that are bit more hardcore than usual. Trust me, you’ll know it when you see it.**

**If that sort of thing offends, please don’t read this story. As always, I urge everyone to send me feedback on this and every other story. Please send your comments to me via email at** [ **MarvelMaster616@hotmail.com** ](mailto:MarvelMaster616@hotmail.com) **or post a review. To everyone who has supported this series and provided so many sexy ideas, I sincerely thank you. Enjoy!**

* * *

**Skies Over Tokyo – Two Days Ago**

_“Explain it to me again, Logan. And try to put it in a way that’ll make me less upset with you,”_ said the annoyed, yet caring voice of Jean Grey-Summers over the X-jet’s communication link.

“You’re askin’ an awful lot of me, Jeannie,” Logan replied. “I’m landing this bird in under ten minutes and I got a meeting with Yukio in less than an hour.”

_“In other words, you fear her wrath more than mine?”_

“To be fair, you both enjoy unleashing your wrath on my ass,” he quipped, “so I guess you’re welcome.”

There was some light laughter over the line. Logan laughed as well, but tried not to enjoy it too much. He still felt bad about leaving her – and the rest of the X-men, for that matter – so abruptly. It wasn’t entirely his fault, but he hated making excuses, especially with Jeannie.

 _“You’re still an ass for ditching me and the rest of the team,”_ Jean said after she stopped laughing. _“You know we’re short-staffed with Cyclops, Storm, and the Professor taking a team into space to visit the Shi’ar.”_

“I know. My timing is fucked,” Logan conceded. “Trust me when I say if I could do this another way, I would.”

_“I do trust you, Logan. I just wish you’d trust me more. I know you still like to lone wolf these things.”_

“And you thought the fact we have sex every now and then would change that?”

_“Can you blame me for my wishful thinking?”_

“Considering the effort you made last night? Hell no!”

There was more laugher, but the former living weapon could still sense Jean’s concern. It helped that she understood him better than most. It helped even more that she didn’t keep him at arm’s length as much anymore.

Ever since she and Cyke opened up their marriage, allowing one another to explore their desires, Jean had been a much more balanced woman and not just in terms of her sex life It was as though everything that made her so special had been amplified and all it took was for her to admit that she enjoyed getting kinky with more than just her husband.

One of those lucky men had been him. In fact, shortly after she and Summers joined the Inner Circle, she cornered him in his room where they had a nice long talk. Logan couldn’t recall every detail of their conversation. At some point, they came clean about how they felt about each other. They both acknowledged there was genuine affection between them, but only to a point. It was like he once told her when she and Cyke were having issues. It would never work between them.

That didn’t mean they still couldn’t enjoy each other’s intimate company, though. That had been the most memorable part of that conversation. As soon as they put all those once-unspoken emotions out in the open, they kissed. Then, before he knew it, they tore each other’s clothes off and finally turned the years of simmering sexual tension into a hot, overdue fuck.

 _“We need this,”_ Jean had told him, the moment her panties came off. _“We need to get this out of our systems.”_

Those were the last words either of them said to each other that night. After that, she literally jumped his bone, throwing her legs around his waist and forcing him to catch her in his arms. Logan then carried her to his bed, laid her down, and unleashed years of pent-up desire for her.

He didn’t remember how many times they fucked that night. He got on top of her and humped her like an animal in heat, tasting every inch of her flesh and savoring the sweet scent of her flesh. She did the same, getting on top and riding his dick at one point, achieving multiple orgasms and bringing him to several more. She even that she had a pretty kinky side, taking it up the ass a few times, giving him oral sex, and even using her Phoenix powers a bit to spice things up. While he always suspected she had that side of her, he had no idea it had been that intense.

That night had been a turning point for Logan and not just because he got to finally have sex with Jean Grey-Summers. After laying things to rest with her, he got more serious about looking to the future instead of obsessing over the past. Between Laura coming into his life and developing a closer relationship with Storm, he couldn’t remember a time when he’d felt so _balanced_. He’d even gotten along better with Cyclops, lately. That, more than anything, showed that he’d made progress.

However, as was often the case with the never-ending shit storm that was his life, his past still found ways to piss him off. That was why he invited Jean to his room the previous night and gave her another round of friendly feral fucking, as they’d come to call it. Then, while she lay naked and satisfied in his bed, Logan slipped away and left for a personal mission that he hoped wasn’t as bad as he suspected.

 _“As fruitless as my effort might have been, will you at least tell me why Yukio called you?”_ Jean said after the laughter settled. _“I’d feel a lot better knowing what got you to fly to the other side of the world so suddenly.”_

“There’s only so much I can tell you, Jeannie,” he replied. “Yukio only sent me a letter – a paper letter with untraceable ink – three days ago through a private courier service. I know it had be serious because it’s the same service the Hand uses to relay assassination orders.”

_“You think she needs you to kill someone?”_

“Given how deadly she is, in and out of her clothes…I doubt it,” said Logan. “The letter said someone connected to Ogun, my old mentor-turned-pissed-off-spirit, had resurfaced. She didn’t give me a name, but she did say his old clan has been active lately. And that’s saying something, given how most of them disappeared after he died.”

_“Well, you know as well as I do how death rarely sticks to some people.”_

“Speak for yourself, Jeannie,” Logan said with a snicker, “but I ain’t sure this is the case. Yukio wouldn’t have sent me that letter if something bigger weren’t at work. She asked for me – and only me – to meet her at some town near Jasmine Falls. That’s as much as I know. All she told me is I better be prepared to open some old wounds and rough up some dirt-bags.”

 _“Isn’t that how all of your trips to Japan play out?”_ quipped Jeannie.

“What can I say? I’m a traditionalist.”

That didn’t evoke as much laughter. He still sensed Jean’s worry over the communication link. He also sensed that she wanted to assemble a team of X-men and join him. Given how often things went horribly wrong when he visited Japan, he couldn’t blame her. However, there was a good reason why he did these missions alone.

“Look, Jeannie…I can’t tell you everything because this is the kind of shit I don’t want smeared on anyone else, especially the people I care about,” Logan went on.

 _“I know,”_ Jean said over the line, _“but I still don’t like it.”_

“Be as upset as you want with me. Lord knows Storm will let me have it when she gets back from space,” he said. “I’ll take that chance. I’ll pay that price so no one else has to.”

 _“Except, you DON’T have to,”_ she said.

“Maybe so, but I want to,” he said in a more serious tone. “Whatever shit show Yukio has in store for me, I’ll handle it. I’ll be back in a few days, just in time to see Cyke, Storm, and Chuck return with the others.”

There was a brief silence over the line. Logan could sense Jean still not liking it. There wasn’t much he could do to allay her concerns. His history in Japan was a painful one, but he always found a way to fight through it. That was the only real assurance he could offer.

“I gotta go now, Jeannie,” Logan said, not waiting for her to tempt him with more coaxing. “I don’t know when I’ll check in. It all depends on how many dirt-bags I gotta stab or how many wounds I gotta re-open.”

 _“Can you at least promise you’ll be back before Nightcrawler, Laura, and Gambit lead the new recruits into another Level 10 Danger Room scenario?”_ Jean asked, still temping him with that worried voice of hers. _“There’s only so much I can do to dissuade them and they listen to you.”_

“Sorry, Jeannie. You know I don’t make promises I can’t keep…especially to you,” he replied. “Just trust me. I’ll take care of this and be back as soon as I can. If you get a chance, tell Laura I owe her a trip to the motorcycle shop.”

Jean responded with silence, which was as close as Logan could hope to get in terms of assurance. Rather than risk further stress for either of them, he closed the communication link, hoping that he could deliver on whatever trust Jeannie, Laura, and the rest of the X-men had in him. Whatever trouble Yukio had in store for him, he intended to return. Nothing short of an assault by Galactus would change that.

With the link down, Logan waited until he got clearance from the tower to land. Once the signal came in, he directed the X-jet towards a runway reserved for private jets and chartered planes. The landing was uneventful. Once on the ground, some airport staff led him into a private hanger that he’d reserved ahead of time.

After powering down the plane and confirming his status with the tower, he gathered his bags and exited the plane. Shortly after he stepped off, he saw an old man in a chauffer’s suit waiting for him near the rear gate. He was standing behind an unmarked SUV with his name written in Japanese on a piece of white board.

Never one to accept a bit of luck when he visited Japan, Logan gazed at the driver suspiciously. He also sniffed the air, but couldn’t make out much, due to the thick smell of grease, jet fuel, and what must have been the most overpriced aftershave he’d ever smelled. The chauffer didn’t look too imposing, but Logan remained hesitant.

“Mr. Logan-san,” the driver greeted in heavily-accented English. “I am here on behalf of Ms. Yukio. I am to transport you to Jasmine Falls at once.”

“How nice of her,” Logan said dryly. “Hope she paid you up front because I intend to find my own way. No offense, but I ain’t got a good history with accepting random gifts in these parts.”

“Even from old friends?” the driver said.

“ _Especially_ from old friends,” said Logan. “If you need me to sign for the tip, I’ll do that. Just don’t expect me to do much else.”

The chauffer frowned, more so than Logan expected from someone who looked old enough to have a few grandkids running around. He was probably not used to a spitting, swearing Canadian telling him off. Then again, given how many enemies he already had in Japan, he doubted one more would make much of a difference.

“I apologize, but Ms. Yukio was rather _insistent_ ,” the chauffer, his voice sounding oddly terse.

“Yeah, she’s like that, even on her best days,” said Logan. “Trust me. You’re better off telling her I blew you off and hit the nearest sushi bar.”

“I’m afraid it’s not that simple.”

“Then, it’s your lucky day, bub,” he said, “because I’m making it that simple.”

Logan, not waiting for the chauffer to argue, turned away and walked towards the front entrance to the hanger, hoping the old man took the hint. Then, with more energy than should’ve been possible for someone his age, he heard him run up behind him and grab his shoulder.

“I believe you are _misunderstanding_ the situation here, Logan-san,” the man said.

“Bub, you’re gettin’ on my nerves,” said Logan, “and trust me…that ain’t something you want.”

“You see, that is where you’re wrong. That’s _exactly_ what I want.”

What happened next was a fitting summation of his history with Japan. The old, unassuming chauffer attacked, attempting to strike him with a series of ninjitsu moves that included a few acrobatic jump kicks and punches that only a handful of people could pull off. It should’ve surprised the former living weapon much more than it actually did, allowing him to block and counter the attacks.

Upon shoving the old man back, Logan drew his claws and prepared for a bigger fight. It wasn’t so much that he’d just landed and was already under attack that bothered him. It was the familiarity of the attacks and how effective they’d been.

“Don’t know if it matters now, but you can forget about the tip,” snarled Logan.

“I’m not worried. I’ve been told you’ll repay me in other ways,” the old man said flatly.

His voice shifted dramatically. It no longer sounded like that of an elder man. In fact, it sounded like someone much younger, but with a distinct undertone…one that evoked a strange bit of reservation in the former living weapon.

“That voice,” Logan said, “I ain’t heard it before, but it sounds _familiar_.”

“I certainly hope so,” the man said. “That’ll make what I do next much more satisfying.”

Logan snarled again and prepared for another attack. However, none came. Instead, the man activated something within his suit. All the buttons along the front and side lit up and let out a strange hissing noise. At first, Logan thought it was some sort of beacon to summon backup. Then, his heightened sense of smell picked up on something and it hit him harder than any attack ever could.

“The scent,” he groaned, “It…fuck, not this again!”

“Believe me,” the man replied, “the feeling is mutual.”

He tried to turn around and sprint in the other direction. It was too late, though. The suit the man wore had filled the surrounding area with an invisible cloud of a very familiar, but very dangerous scent. To most people, it didn’t smell like anything. Only those with enhanced senses knew it was there, but Logan had sensed it before while dealing with someone he’d hoped to never fight again.

The effect of that scent was immediate. Logan fell to his knees, his claws still drawn as his body became rigid and paralyzed. His vision blurred, his thoughts became incoherent, and the monster within him that years of bad memories and brutal torture emerged, but in a very different form.

“Pheromones,” Logan said before his last shred of control shattered.

“My specialty,” the man said. “It’s one of the few things I _didn’t_ inherit from you or…”

His words devolved into a jumped mess as Logan’s senses became obscure. Between the scent and the sound of the man’s voice, his fragmented memories and his feral rage were in overdrive. As he fought the influence of the pheromones in vain, he looked up at the figure as he approached. In the process, the man activated something else within his suit.

His visions remained blurred, but Logan could still see well enough to notice the face of the old man fading. He quickly recognized it as a hologram fading out, not unlike the one Nightcrawler used to disguise himself in public. The face that took the place of the old man wasn’t one he recognized, but it was still familiar.

He saw a face that looked half-Japanese and half-Caucasian. He also saw dark hair that had been shaved and shaped into a Mohawk. It was a very strange look for a man, even by X-men standards. Then, just before his senses completely failed him, the figure knelt down and revealed that he too had a set of familiar claws…one that had very distressing, but very personal implications.

“We meet at last…father,” said the man. “I wish the circumstances were different. I wish…I were the one who got to hurt you like this. Unfortunately, choices other than our own have turned against us.”

* * *

**The Hellfire Club – Present Day**

“Emma…Mary Jane…we have a situation,” barked an urgent Jean Grey as she stormed into the Hellfire Club’s spa, wearing her Black Queen attire.

“Damn it, Jean! Can’t it wait?” groaned an overly-content Mary Jane Watson.

“Darling, I’m trying to hate you less these days, but you’re _not_ helping,” said an equally-bemused Emma Frost.

Jean had a feeling she would face some initial resistance and significant annoyance from her fellow queens. She’d known for nearly a week that today had been reserved as a spa day, one where they dedicated an entire morning to being pampered and cared for to wipe away the stress of the past week.

That pampering often included a facial, a manicure, some skin treatments, a hair treatment, and a thorough massage by a couple of well-trained, well-paid, and well-endowed men. The _massage_ often involved the men either giving them oral sex or fondling their pussies to orgasm. If that didn’t do the trick, they just fucked them on the spot. Emma and Mary Jane often did it together, as part of a tradition they’d shared during their days as strippers. As such, they _hated_ being interrupted.

Jean ended up barging in at the worst possible time because Emma and Mary Jane were already naked on a couple of massage tables. One masseuse was on his knees, eating Mary Jane’s pussy out. The other was fingering Emma’s pussy while fondling her breast. The fact the men were already shirtless and had noticeable erections hinted that they’d hoped to get more than just a rub-down and a happy ending. The Black Queen would have to make it up to them later.

“Um…should we leave?” asked one of the masseuses.

“Yes. Please go,” said Jean. “I’ve already added a bonus to your check. I expect we’ll need your services again sooner than usual.”

“Hey! Are we not getting a say here?” Mary Jane protested, scorning the masseuse after abruptly ending his oral teasing.

“You can hate me later. I’ll even let you decide the theme of the next five orgies,” said the Black Queen, channeling the same authoritative poise as her husband. “This is one of those rare problems that involves X-men matters, personal affairs, and Hellfire Club business all at once.”

“I’m still waiting for sufficient justification for disturbing the spirit of spa day,” said Emma harshly.

“It also involves Weapon X, Wolverine, and Donald Pierce. Is that enough justification, for you?”

Almost immediately, the room became silent and tense. The fact that it happened to be a massage room, complete with candles, massage tables, and stacks of hot towels made that a remarkable feat, in and of itself. Emma and Mary Jane exchanged glances and cringed. Jean had a feeling that as soon as they heard that last name, they understood the gravity of the situation.

The two male masseuses, who were already packing their stuff and putting their shirts back on, lingered for a moment longer. Eventually, Emma cast them an exasperated look and sighed.

“You heard the Black Queen. Go,” she told them. “Stay on call, though. I may need way more than a massage after this.”

“Me too,” groaned Mary Jane. “Donald Pierce is one of the few names besides Shaw that can totally kill the mood.”

“Believe me. That gap may narrow after you hear about _this_.”

“I already believe you,” said Emma, “and between you and me, that’s _rarely_ a good sign.”

The two women went from relaxed and pampered to frustrated and anxious. Jean watched as her fellow queens got off the massage tables, retrieved a couple of silk robes, and put them on. They then followed her out of the room and towards the throne room, as they called it. That was where they did most of their business as the Inner Circle, including serious matters and festive orgies. Unfortunately, this matter required much more of the former rather than the latter.

“You picked a hell of a time to drop that name on us, Jean,” said Emma as they neared the throne room. “Cyclops, Charles, and much of the team is still in space with the Shi’ar. We’re hardly equipped to fight a battle that involves Donald bloody Pierce.”

“And I hope you weren’t banking on the Avengers providing backup,” Mary Jane said. “They all went on a mission to the Savage Land yesterday. Spider-Man even warned me that any response to a sudden Chitari invasion was going to be delayed.”

“I’m well-aware that the timing couldn’t be worse,” said Jean. “Lucky for us, this is one of those issues that doesn’t need the X-men, the Avengers, or some other elaborate effort. In fact, the Hellfire Club might be in the best possible position to deal with this.”

“You sound so confident, but you know as well as I do that your husband is the one with the tactical skills,” Emma said with folded arms. “You think they’ve rubbed off on you just because you rub up against him more often these days?”

“Trust that Scott has influenced me enough because we’ll need more than just tactics. Many lives depend on it…specifically Logan’s.”

“What kind of trouble did he get into this time?” asked Mary Jane.

“I’m not entirely sure yet, but I have a vague idea.”

Upon arriving at the entrance to the throne room, Jean led her fellow queens inside. She already had several computer monitors set up on the conference table, complete with holographic displays. She’d already transferred the relevant data from the Xavier Institute to the Hellfire Mansion. In addition to the convenience, there were some parts of that data that she preferred didn’t remain in the institute’s servers.

She already had one of the monitors queued up with some old files. As part of their effort to keep the new Inner Circle free from the influence of their predecessors, they maintained files on all former members, including those presumed dead. Donald Pierce was one who’d been listed as deceased for quite some time, having fallen shortly before Shanobi Shaw was arrested by SHIELD. Knowing better than most how death rarely deterred certain people, Jean never assumed they were _completely_ safe from that influence.

“Near as I can tell, it started a couple days ago,” said Jean as he loaded some of the files. “Logan pulled another one of his lone wolf stunts, packing up and heading to Japan without telling anyone.”

“At a time when he knows damn well we’re under-staffed and have spa days on the calendar? _That’s_ telling,” said Emma with dripping sarcasm.

“I tried not to assume the worst. I really did,” said Jean with an exasperated sigh.

“I suppose you can only try so much with a guy like Logan,” said Mary Jane.

“I didn’t expect him to check in. I didn’t even make him promise that he would. I still felt inclined to do a few psychic sweeps of Japan, just in case I sensed something other than undead ninjas.”

“Let me guess. You found something,” said Emma.

“That’s the disturbing part. I didn’t find anything through the usual methods. Cerebro revealed nothing out of the ordinary and SHIELD didn’t send us any alerts. When I used some less conventional methods, though…”

Jean let her words trail off as she loaded a few more files from the Hellfire Club’s private database. Among them were some old financial records from Pierce’s various companies, some of which had ties to Shaw Industries. Both Mary Jane and Emma were familiar with those. It was the newer files that got their attention.

On one of the holographic screens, a series of statements and images came up. Among the images were public and private video feeds that depicted a Japanese company securing several deals, putting on a legitimate public face, and securing distinctly illegitimate resources. Anyone with even a passing familiarity with Weapon X would recognize some of those resources.

“What exactly are we looking at, Jean?” asked Emma in a more serious tone. “And while you’re at it, tell me why it looks like the same ghastly hardware we encountered when we met Fantomex.”

“It’s as bad as you think and then some,” Jean affirmed, her gaze narrowing on the feed.

“So that _is_ an official statement saying that Pierce’s old holdings were transferred to some Japanese biotech company several months ago,” said Mary Jane. “The fact that didn’t raise any red flags tells me there’s something _unofficial_ going on.”

“And you’d be right, Mary Jane. That biotech company that has all the right paperwork and no shady affiliations is a total farce,” Jean continued. “I found out through the Hellfire Club’s old dossiers that it was a front for the Yashida Clan, an organization Logan knows all too well.”

“Who also have _many_ reasons to hurt him,” Emma added.

“It gets even worse than that. This front was supposedly shelved _decades_ ago. I’m talking World War II era backlogs that nobody has touched for a long time. The fact anyone even knew about it means we’re dealing with someone who plays the long game.”

“ _We_ knew about it, though,” Mary Jane pointed out, “or more specifically…Shaw knew about it.”

“And he’d probably be just as suspicious if he saw this little tidbit that came up less than an hour ago.”

Jean closed the older files and opened the latest batch of info. It included an encrypted log that the Hellfire Club’s old servers had detected whereas SHIELD, the Avengers, and the X-men couldn’t. It said a lot about the network the Hellfire Club had and still maintained that something so nefarious had occurred under everyone’s nose.

The Black Queen let the message from the log play out for Mary Jane and Emma. If her barging in on their spa day hadn’t completely ruined their mood, this sure did.

“Fuck me,” Emma groaned, “and I hate saying that ironically.”

“I’m seeing emblems associated with the Hand, Hydra, AIM, the Serpent Society, and some other groups I don’t recognize, but assume are total assholes,” said Mary Jane. “I’m not liking any of that.”

“You shouldn’t,” said Jean. “That’s because according to the Hellfire Club’s contacts, representatives from each of these organizations are on their way to Osaka for an auction…one that involves the juiciest fruits of Weapon X.”

“They’re not even trying to hide it,” said Emma. “You’re saying this came in an hour ago? And Logan has been in Japan for two days?”

“Yep,” said Jean.

“And near as you can tell, everyone associated with the auction _hasn’t_ been horribly maimed by adamantium claws?”

“Unfortunately yes,” the Black Queen affirmed, “and to show that this is the real deal, they even sent _these_ out.”

Jean loaded a few more pictures that had been attached to the encrypted files. They depicted some pretty brutal images, showing the maimed bodies of a few Hand ninjas, Hydra agents, and AIM robots. The photos were all dated yesterday and had the distinct claw marks that were so indicative of Logan’s brutal style. It painted a clear, albeit dire, picture of what they faced.

“Fuck, I’m glad I skipped breakfast,” Mary Jane groaned, not used to such graphic imagery.

“Weapon X has that effect on people, darling,” said Emma. “Just wait until you meet Fantomex.”

“That’s just it. I’m not sure this is all Weapon X. The fact Logan has disappeared, hasn’t checked in, and isn’t answering any com-links makes me wonder whether there’s something else at work.”

“Or someone, as often tends to be the case with Logan’s sordid history,” said Emma.

“Anything’s possible,” said Jean, “but Logan’s history aside, this is unfolding as we speak. That auction is happening in less than twelve hours from now and Logan is probably at the center of it.”

“That’s probably a safe bet,” said the White Queen. “He always finds his way to ground zero of a shit storm.”

“And you brought this to us instead of SHIELD,” said Mary Jane.

“There’s a reason for that.”

“I already know the reason,” said the Red Queen, already sounding overwhelmed by the predicament. “The Avengers are on a mission. The X-men are off-world. The fact SHIELD hasn’t already pounced on this yet hints they’re probably caught up in something.”

“It probably has something to do with the Hulk this time,” said Emma under her breath.

“Which means if anyone is going to stop this, it has to be _us_ …the new queens of the Hellfire Club.”

Jean said that with such confidence, as though it were the sorts of things the Hellfire Club did all the time. Both Emma and Mary Jane cast her a bemused glare, reminding her just how little she’d thought through her plan. She didn’t argue the less-than-ideal circumstances, though. As Cyclops had taught her, both as leader of the X-men and as her lover, such circumstances often required bold plans with unfamiliar tactics.

The Black Queen could only hope that more of her husband’s skills had rubbed off on her as she closed the files. There wasn’t much more that needed to be said. Logan was in danger. The shadow of Weapon X had reared its ugly head once more and some of the most dangerous organizations of the world were in position to exploit it. The new Hellfire Club might not have been the Avengers, SHIELD, or the X-men, but they had the power and the responsibility to do something.

“We don’t have much time to act,” said Mary Jane. “I’ve already got a private jet waiting for us at JFK, along with a change of clothes and some off-book resources.”

“Cyclops would be proud,” said Emma, rolling her eyes, “and probably a little turned on.”

“I’m all for keeping dangerous people from acquiring deadly weapons, living or otherwise,” said Mary Jane, “but need I remind you that I have no super-powers.”

“Only if you don’t count your ability to seduce every straight man into oblivion,” teased Emma.

“I know this isn’t your domain, Mary Jane,” said Jean, “but even without mutant powers, you’ve carved a pretty powerful position for yourself. As Red Queen of the Hellfire Club, you still have influence…the kind that gives you opportunities to do things that SHIELD and other heroes never get.”

“I use sex, decadence, and kink to help good guys fight bad guys,” said Mary Jane. “How can I _possibly_ contribute for something like this?”

Jean had hoped that the Red Queen would ask her that question. It led her to one of the few parts of her hastily-conjured plan about which she felt confident. She cast her fellow queen a telling grin, if only to let her know that she had a part in the mission and it would play to her strengths. She might even end up being the deciding factor that allowed them to stop the auction and save Logan.

She soon noticed Emma Frost grinning as well. She was probably still upset about her spa day being ruined, but there were certain aspects of her plan that helped make up for it. Jean knew better than most that while Emma could be an annoying rival, she did her best work in situations where she got to flex her strengths. That would be critical as well if they were going to succeed.

“Fair warning, Mary Jane,” said Emma, “I just gleaned some details from my fellow queen’s mind. You’re going to love, hate, worry, and embrace what she has in store…although not necessarily in that order.”

“I’m almost afraid to ask,” muttered Mary Jane, “but if I have the power to contribute something, I guess I have the responsibility to see it through.”

“Glad to hear it,” said Jean, offering her fellow queen an encouraging gesture. “I’ll explain on the plane and prep you for the juicy bits. I don’t claim to know who or what we’re up against, but if Logan is involved, it’s probably pretty bad.”

“Between Deadpool and Fantomex, I shudder at the thought of meeting more of his affiliates,” said Emma.

“If all goes according to plan, we won’t have to,” said Jean, “although if the intel is any indication, we should be prepared to meet some pretty nasty people along the way.”

* * *

**Unknown Location**

“Can you hear me, father? Are you aware enough to recognize your own blood, as it stands before you?”

Those questions rang hollow before the unmoving, half-conscious figure of Logan. That was to be expected. The side-effect of the pheromones that filled the room, combined with the amplification catalyst coursing through his system, ensured the former pride of Weapon X remained in a docile, ignorant state. For Daken Akihiro, it was a bittersweet, but _infuriating_ moment.

For many years, he’d imagined the moment when he finally encountered his father. That was only natural for anyone who had been adopted and raised by a family that only ever saw him as a placeholder until they could have a child of their own. Every child that never had the privilege of knowing their birth parents felt that way. Most of those children, however, never found out the role their biological father played in the death of their biological mother.

That turned all a typical curiosity of an outcast orphan boy into a life-long vendetta. Upon learning that knowledge, Daken swore that he would go to any length to confront his father again. He wanted to look him in the eye so he could see the breadth of his hatred towards him. Only after he understood that hatred would he make the man called Wolverine suffer for his mother’s death.

Unfortunately, the price of creating such a moment turned out to be higher than he’d anticipated. He expected that price to keep rising as the hidden hand guiding both their fates continued to operate.

“He heard you,” said the voice behind that hidden hand. “He knows who you are, Daken. He doesn’t deny it. He’s just not in a position to think much of it…and neither are you.”

Daken’s expression tensed as he remained fixated on his father’s unmoving form. He angrily clenched his fists as a tall, menacing figure walked by him. He then stood by the special containment gurney that held Logan in place.

It had him stripped naked, strapped in with adamantium shackles, and dotted with various IV tubes. From those tubes, a series of exotic chemicals were pumped into his system. Daken knew the effects of those chemicals all too well because they flowed through his system too. The extent of the effect it had on them both only further infuriated him.

It was like being a prisoner in his own body. For him, a man who took such pride in his body and his ability to use it in pursuit of his goals, it was not a pleasant feeling. The man still pulling the strings showed little concern. He cast a large, imposing shadow over him and his estranged father…a shadow that had been following them long before this moment.

“Acknowledge my presence,” the man said.

“Yes, Romulus,” Daken said obediently, hating every word in the process.

“The catalyst is working,” he said, “the unique genetic marker that I grafted to his DNA at birth…the same marker that he passed to you…it remains active. Weapon X tried to use it, but never fully understood it. They couldn’t possibly grasp its potential.”

Romulus wasn’t telling Daken anything he didn’t know or hadn’t found out the hard way. He could do nothing other than fume. He got the sense Romulus _wanted_ that. He needed his enemies to despise him. It was how he manipulated people and beyond showing a high capacity for deceit, Romulus had demonstrated an uncanny ability/fondness for manipulation.

“I can tell he’s still fighting his purpose,” Romulus went on, “just as I can sense you fighting yours, Daken. We all have a role to play. From Weapon X’s part in weaponizing Wolverine to Donald Pierce’s part in synthesizing the catalyst to your part in producing the pheromones that make that catalyst work, Daken…each piece has its place.”

Daken fumed even more, his thoughts focusing less on his father and more on Romulus’ manipulations. He could only watch as he extracted more of the exotic red substance from Logan’s body, a portion of which came directly from his pheromone manipulation abilities. He suspected that was part of why Romulus had gone out of his way to use him. Like his father before him, he simply played a part in his grand plan.

As he synthesized the substance – the catalyst, as he called it – a team of Reavers entered the laboratory. Daken had no idea if they had been manipulated to the same extent as him and Logan, but they had been the ones aiding Romulus since before he got involved. They were the muscle that helped organize this ambitious endeavor…one, for which, his role remained uncertain.

“You still have a role in this, Daken,” Romulus said as he held up a sample of the catalyst. “While it’s not quite as critical as your father’s, it’s still necessary. Confirm that you understand that.”

“I understand,” said Daken, hating that he sounded so obedient.

“As with every chance, there’s the distinct possibility that there might be _interference_ ,” he continued. “I’ve taken precautions, but I’m not foolish enough to believe they’ll suffice. That’s why I’ll need you to be extra vigilant on my behalf.”

Daken’s lips quivered, his brain ordering his mouth to cuss Romulus out in every way possible. His body remained uncooperative, still trapped within the old man’s manipulations. It enraged him to no end, so much so that he _almost_ despised Romulus more than his father. The breadth of his hatred was a moot point, though. He remained standing over his unconscious father, awaiting whatever perverse role Romulus had in store for him.

With a fresh batch of the catalyst in hand, Romulus walked over to him. His large stature and imposing shadow had a very intimidating presence. Considering who he’d invited to the auction scheduled for this evening, he had to convey a certain sentiment.

Daken remained unafraid, though. As much as he despised his father, there was one trait he was glad he shared. They both despised people like Romulus who sought to use him. Even if it meant delaying his vengeance on his father, he intended to make Romulus pay. However, he doubted the old man would make it easy for him.

“I know you want to hurt me, Daken. I know you’re still resisting,” Romulus said while holding up the catalyst in front of him. “I don’t expect you to stop, but I can’t have you disrupting this evening’s activities.”

Through sheer will and burning hatred, Daken managed to scowl at the imposing man before him. His fists clench and his hands twitched, hinting the intensity with which he despised Romulus. The old man barely noticed. He even seemed to delight in his animosity towards him. As he opened the container holding the catalyst, he cast him a cold grin.

“That’s why I synthesized this special batch of catalyst for you,” he continued. “It’s probably best you not know how it’ll effect you. Just know it’ll keep you in the necessary _mindset_ , so to speak.

That could mean any number of terrible things. Daken didn’t bother speculating. He just kept seething with hatred, still anticipating the moment for when he would get his chance to exact vengeance on both Romulus and his father. That moment didn’t come, though.

With that cold grin etched firmly in Daken’s memory, he watched as Romulus released the catalyst into the air around him. As soon as it hit Daken’s senses, his entire body tensed and he let out a feral roar that echoed through the entire facility. Then, everything went dark.

* * *

**Hellfire Club Penthouse – Two Weeks Ago**

“You’re doing great, MJ! And looking damn good, as well!” said an enthusiastic Peter Parker.

“Thanks, Tiger,” replied a breathless, but energized Mary Jane. “You know…I like…to go the extra mile.”

Under the watchful eye of her lover, who also happened to be a superhero, carefully went through a series of self-defense motions. What started as a simple suggestion by Peter had become a critical part of her rigorous workout regimen. Even though being the Red Queen of the Hellfire Club afforded her money, resources, and a legion of obedient male guardians/sex servants, she still needed to protect herself.

Most successful prostitutes, particularly the high-end ones, learned how to defend themselves in some capacity. While many relied on pepper spray and hired muscle, Mary Jane preferred a more personal approach. She’d learned during her days as a stripper at the Hellfire Club that some basic fighting skills were critical, given the clientele they served. Until she met Peter, she’d never gone beyond the basics. For the most part, she didn’t need to defend herself because she had been so careful with screening her clients.

Since meeting Peter and becoming the Red Queen, she began learning more advanced techniques. Peter, having had too many bad experiences with loved ones not being able to defend themselves, went out of his way to teach her. While she’d gotten a few lessons from Iron Fist, she preferred training with Peter, if only because his presence gave her more motivation.

Dressed in her tight-fitting workout clothes, sweating heavily after over an hour of training in the private gym located several floors under her pent house. She went through several motions with Peter in front of her, acting as both a guide and a counter. He mimicked common attacks so she could act out various moves, some riskier than others. It made her training more active. It also gave her and Peter a reason to get hot, sweaty, and close with their clothes on, for once…although, that didn’t mean they stayed on.

“Counter one…strike two…end with the stunner,” said Mary Jane as she worked through the motions, following Peter’s guidance.

“And if that doesn’t work?” said Peter, pretending he wasn’t stunned.

“Use the knee if you can,” she said instinctively, pretending to knee him in the gut, “or if that’s not possible, use the elbow to the sternum…right here.”

She mimicked the movement perfectly, demonstrating control over her reflexes that would’ve impressed any superhero, regardless of whether she was sleeping with him. Peter gave her an approving grin, putting his hands up to signal that she’d done it right. It had taken them much longer than either of them had intended, but she’d done it. She’d mastered another move.

“That’s it,” he told her. “A hit like that, even at half strength will knock the wind out of anyone that isn’t wearing Rhino-level armor.”

“Hopefully, I won’t have to use this against people like that,” said Mary Jane, remaining close to him.

“I’d rather you never have to use this against anybody, but I’ve learned the hard way – the very hard way, in fact – that you can’t always be there to save the people you care about. The next best thing is to make sure they can kick enough ass to buy time.”

“You think I’m capable of kicking that much ass?” she said curtly.

“Between this and those lessons you took with Iron Fist, I’d say you’ve long-since passed that point,” said Peter. “Like you said, though, you like to go the extra mile.”

He grinned at her ambition, even as she finally relaxed her defensive stance. At the same time, though, Mary Jane sensed some unspoken anxiety within her lover. As much as she loved him, he wasn’t always the most open when it came to his insecurities. Luckily for her, he did a piss-poor job of hiding it.

“You’re still worried someone will come after me…like the Green Goblin did with Gwen,” Mary Jane told him.

“Would you be mad if I said yes?” he replied.

“Not at all,” she said with a reassuring smile. “That just shows how much you care. It also reminds me why I’ve made this part of my life, learning to defend myself and being ready to fight through rough situations.”

“I thought part of being the Red Queen meant not being in those situations anymore.”

“See, that’s the thing, Tiger. The first lesson you learn as a prostitute is to _never_ assume you’ve seen it all. And I’m not just talking about peoples’ capacity for kink.”

“Yeah, I can understand that,” said Peter awkwardly, having only a vague idea of some of the kinks she’d encountered.

“You can’t play it by ear. You can’t always prepare, either. One way or another, you’re going to put yourself in vulnerable situations, sometimes by choice and sometimes by circumstance. The key is having a good contingency plan _and_ the skills to make it work.”

“Sounds like you’ve been working on both since we crossed paths.”

“Peter,” said Mary Jane in a more serious tone, “what makes you think I ever stopped?”

Still sensing some lingering concern, she drew her lover into an affectionate embrace. She didn’t’ care that she was still sweaty and disheveled. She didn’t care that he was just as sweaty too, having not showered since last night when he came in late from patrol. She didn’t mind though. If anything, the heavy musk of his heroic efforts turned her on and she made sure he knew it.

Peter smiled back at her and embraced her as well, clearly getting the message. He gently parted her sweaty hair behind her ear, casting her that affectionate glance, even when she was at her most disheveled. Along with his affection, she also felt some noticeable hardness through his dirty sweatpants.

“I’m never going to stop worrying about you, Mary Jane,” Peter told her.

“I know,” she replied with a coy grin.

“At some point, you’re going to be in a position where you’ll have to use these skills in ways you haven’t trained for,” he added. “Between being Spider-Man’s girlfriend and the Red Queen of the Hellfire Club, it’s only a matter of time.”

“I know,” she said. “I won’t pretend I’m ready for it. Being the Red Queen has already put me in many interesting predicaments…some more dangerous than others.”

“That doesn’t seem to bother you.”

“That’s because I’m not afraid,” she told him. “You can’t be the Red Queen, Spider-Man’s girlfriend, or a successful prostitute and be scared. You have to be willing to take a chance and use those skills when the time comes. The most you can do for me…the most we can do for each other…is give ourselves a damn good reason to make it through.”

Her voice took on a more emotional undertone, reminding Peter how much he meant to her. She then kissed him softly on the lips, belaboring that sentiment to the utmost. Worried or not, her lover eagerly returned the feeling, wrapping her in his powerful arms and giving her plenty of motivation to make use of her skills.

That embrace also had the effect of inundating her with that sweaty, manly musk of his. Mary Jane hadn’t been planning to act on her arousal so early in the morning. Both she and Peter had busy days ahead of them. However, another part of being Spider-Man’s girlfriend and a good Red Queen was making every opportunity count.

When their lips parted, she remained in his arms. She also rubbed her thigh up against the hardness in his pants, causing his demeanor to shift, along with his embrace of her.

“Mmm…that’s a good reason,” said Peter.

“Care to give me another, Tiger?” she said seductively, trailing a finger down his chest to get the point across. “You think you’ve got the strength?”

“Well, we’re already hot, sweaty, and sore. We might as well hit for the cycle.”

“Baseball puns and keen observation…you know how to turn me on, Peter Parker.”

They laughed and kissed again, now for different reasons and with different motivations. Their soft lips gave way to eager tongues as she sensually trailed her hands down his upper body while he felt up her womanly curves, giving her butt a firm squeeze in the process.

When she reached the hem of his shirt, she pulled it up off over his head, taking some of the sweat with it. He returned the favor, pulling down her tight-fitting yoga pants, kissing down her thighs along the way. Any soreness she’d felt from over an hour of training quickly faded. Her arousal had granted her a second wind.

“These workout clothes…so sweaty and dirty,” Mary Jane said.

“That’s easy to fix,” teased Peter.

Once her pants were at her ankles, he pulled her down onto the floor with him, which also happened to be a padded mat she’d often used for yoga. He then embraced her in his arms again, kissing her and smothering her with his exposed upper body. That prompted Mary Jane to shed the rest of her clothes, kicking off her shoes and removing her athletic shirt, along with her sports bra.

As soon as her breasts came tumbling out, Peter smothered them with her lips, not all minding the lingering sweat or stickiness. He kissed and fondled her tits as only he could, sending shivers of bliss up through her body. It was both arousing and an effective way to cool down from a workout, as though she and Peter needed any more reasons to make love.

“Peter…your pants,” she said.

“Way ahead of you,” Peter replied.

“Still not far enough!”

Showing more energy than lesser men after a rigorous workout, Mary Jane pushed Peter back so that he lay flat on the mat. Then, while flashing him that seductive gaze she knew he loved, she grasped the hem of his sweatpants and pulled them off, boxers and all. As soon as she saw his semi-hard cock pop free, she threw his dirty clothes to the side and went for it.

“Mary Jane,” he said, already breathless, “allow me catch up.”

Sensing what he meant by that, she crawled on top of him and shifted her body so that they were in a 69 position. She now had a perfect view of his growing cock and he had perfect access to her pussy. After elevating her hips a bit and removing her panties, he went for it, gorging on her moist womanhood while she did the same with his cock.

Still energized from her workout, Mary Jane was direct and thorough with her oral teasing, grasping the base with both hands and taking in his length as much as her gag reflex would allow. Peter took a similar approach, lightly parting her folds with his fingers and flicking his tongue within her moist flesh. It created a perfect cycle of mutual teasing, evoking both pleasure and arousal.

Deep grunts and blissful moans followed, each muffled by one another’s efforts. As was often the case when they had sex, she and Peter mirrored each other’s vigor. As Mary Jane worked her lips up and down his shaft, slithering her tongue along his rigid flesh, Peter returned the favor with every bit of intensity. The way he probed her pussy with his tongue while stimulating her clit with her thumb sent more shivers of pleasure coursing through her body. It also ensured they achieved optimal arousal together.

“There…all caught up,” said Mary Jane, giving the tip of his cock one last lift after becoming fully erect.

“Your endurance…amazes me, MJ,” commented Peter, who did the same with her clit.

“Then, let’s use what’s left of it to make hot, sweaty love!”

Showing some endurance of his own – the superhero variety, no less – Peter shifted their bodies so they could make the kind of love they both desired. Mary Jane soon found herself lying on her back, the dirty, sweat-stained gym mat under her while her eager lover got on top of her. Despite having finished a full workout less than ten minutes ago, he showed no signs of fatigue.

Ignoring her own exhaustion, Mary Jane eagerly spread her legs and welcomed him into her embrace. With their dirty, sweaty flesh now so closely entwined, Peter guided cock towards the wet folds of her pussy. He then delivered a hard thrust, driving his dick up into her pussy and filling her core with a welcome dose of pleasure to balance out the strain.

“Ooh Peter!” Mary Jane moaned. “This…is my favorite workout.”

“Gotta…stay in…shape, right?” he teased.

They laughed playfully as their naked bodies moved simple, yet determined rhythm of sex. Mary Jane bent her knees back, holding her thighs apart so her lover could penetrate deep with each thrust. Peter made the most of every movement, holding onto her thighs and really digging his knees into the gym mat for leverage. It wasn’t as heated or kinky as the many other sex acts they enjoyed, but it was still every bit as meaningful.

_‘He makes me stronger in so many ways. Even when he makes love to me, Peter reminds me of that strength.’_

As Mary Jane soaked in the pleasure, moaning and gasping as their naked bodies moved, she caressed her lover’s face and kissed him passionately. He still had morning breath. She still had no makeup and messy hair. It didn’t matter. If anything, that made their sex more raw and genuine. It also made the approaching orgasm all the more enjoyable.

Whether by luck, experience, or her just being in a good mood after a workout, Mary Jane’s peak approached quickly. As the feeling drew near, she arched her lower back a little harder with each thrust. She also grabbed onto his biceps, which felt extra hard after doing free-weights earlier. That helped let Peter know just how close she was.

“Peter…I’m close,” she gasped. “Ooh I’m so…so close!”

“Guess that means…you’re in great shape…already!” Peter said in between labored grunts.

Mary Jane would’ve laughed with him again if the rush of orgasm hadn’t washed over her. It struck her hard and fast, like finishing the final set of a workout. As soon as she crossed that threshold, she leaned back sharply, squeezed her breasts, and let out that familiar cry that she knew Peter loved hearing.

As her pussy tightened around his cock in conjunction with her release, he ceased his movements so he could admire the sight. Usually, Mary Jane enjoyed putting on a sexy show when she climaxed with Peter. It was part of spectacle she’d prided herself on, as both a former prostitute and the Red Queen. For once, though, she skipped the spectacle and just soaked in the pleasure. Peter certainly didn’t seem to mind.

“Only you can make regular training this fun, Mary Jane,” Peter said.

“Mmm…I like mixing work with pleasure…a lot,” she purred.

He laughed and leaned in to kiss her neck, still not caring about the sweat or her disheveled hair. She returned the favor, embracing her lover as the ripples of pleasure coursed throughout her body. As soon as they passed, though, Mary Jane went to work sharing in that _mixture_ she mentioned.

Showing she still had plenty of strength too, Mary Jane rolled Peter over so that he was now the one on his back with her on top. The sound of their sticky flesh on the gym mat filled the room, almost as much as their playful moans. Peter’s dick was still hard, having briefly withdrawn it from her pussy during her orgasm. Despite her lower body still throbbing – and not just from her orgasm, either – she positioned herself on top of him so they could finish the workout.

“You’re turn, Tiger,” Mary Jane said with a seductive tone. “Consider this your cool down.”

“Cool…right,” Peter snickered.

Before he could joke about the irony, Mary Jane reached behind her and guided his dick back into her pussy. Her moist folds still dripping wet, his rigid flesh filled her easily. Once he was all the way inside her, the Red Queen planted both feet firmly at his side, held onto his waist, and began riding his cock with the same simple, yet effective fervor that he’d used so effectively with her.

“Feeling…in shape…yet?” Mary Jane teased.

“Mmm…among other things,” Peter moaned.

She flashed a seductive glance and watched as he took in the blissful feelings that followed. She was very thorough with her movements, really working her pussy along the full length of his cock. She emphasized quantity over quality, making sure he felt the full extent of her depths. It proved effective, evoking a very vocal reaction from her lover.

“Oohhh fuck!” he grunted. “Mary Jane…already…so close!”

Taking that as motivation, Mary Jane stepped up her efforts. She tightened her grip on his waist and dug her feet into the gym mat, driving her pelvis down against his with extra vigor. Peter, having done plenty to exhaust himself, even before they started having sex, was content to let her do much of the work.

He still tried to contribute, holding onto her hips and squeezing her butt as she rode him. She still made it a point to carry him over the edge, working his dick inside her pussy until he neared the brink. Having become so intimately familiar with his proclivities, Mary Jane knew the signs well. The way his grunts deepened, his face twitched, and his grip tensed – it let her know he was ready and she gladly carried him into the ecstasy.

“You train me, love me, and fuck me…so well,” she said to him. “Why not…embrace it?”

With a few thorough gyrations of her hips, Mary Jane sent her lover into that world of ecstasy. As soon as she felt his dick tense inside her, she ceased her movements and held onto him as he climaxed.

Like her, it wasn’t quite as theatrical as usual. She watched her lover’s messy, sweaty face contort to the pleasure. There was a deep grunt, followed by a burst of cum that shot up into her pussy. At one point during the blissful release, she took his hands in hers, their fingers becoming entwined for the duration of the feeling. She lingered in place until every last drop of cum and every last bit of sensation had passed.

Once certain that her lover had enjoyed his share of the pleasure, she rose up off his cock and laid down on top of him, resting her chin on his chest and letting him catch his breath. Now laying in a sweaty, naked heap on the floor of the gym, they had exhausted themselves even more than usual with their latest workout. While Mary Jane hadn’t planned to push herself _that_ hard so early in the morning, she couldn’t help but feel even stronger than usual.

“That…was a hell of a workout,” said Peter.

“I take it you’re also referring to the _actual_ workout, too,” Mary Jane teased.

“Yeah, what you said,” he quipped.

They laughed, still dazed from the afterglow of their sex. Even a quick morning fuck in the gym put them in that special mood and, given the erratic schedules of the Red Queen and Spider-Man, that feeling was critical.

“For the record, this training I give you still matters,” said Peter in a more serious tone. “It matters a _lot_ , MJ.”

“I know,” she told him.

“You say that now, but at some point, it’s going to annoy you…me wanting you to be strong and skilled enough to protect yourself.”

“I don’t mind you annoying me, Peter. You always make up for it in the end.”

“It can’t just be about good workouts and makeup sex,” he went on. “Me being Spider-Man, there will _definitely_ come a time when I have to be away for a while. Whether it’s chasing Doc Ock to the South Pole or just helping the Avengers clean up after Hulk, my responsibilities will sometimes keep me from giving you great post-workout sex.”

“I understand that,” she told him, “and I don’t want to keep you from those responsibilities.”

“And I don’t want you to vulnerable,” said Peter with more affection in his voice. “I’ve already lost people I love because of that. I don’t want it to happen again.”

It was one of the most difficult issue of her and Peter’s relationship, her being vulnerable because of his life as Spider-Man. He’d expressed those concerns the night they first met and for good reason. It cost his first love, Gwen Stacy, her life. That still haunted him a great deal. Mary Jane saw it in his eyes whenever he brought this subject up.

It might not have been an easy topic for him, even after they made love, but Mary Jane understood why he belabored it with her. To some extent, it reaffirmed just how much he loved and cared about her. His life as Spider-Man took him to so many different places and into many different conflicts. He needed to know she was strong enough and capable enough to be there when he came back. It was up to her to assure him.

“Peter, I know you’ll always worry,” she told him. “No matter how much I train or how much I invest in protecting myself, you’ll still worry about me.”

“Hope you don’t hold that against me,” said Peter.

“Your heart’s in the right place. It always is. That’s why I want to be strong for you…as strong as I can possibly be without super powers.”

“I still content that you have the power to be irresistibly sexy to men, but that’s beside the point.”

“Whatever power I have or don’t have, I’ll keep pushing myself to get stronger…just as you push yourself,” Mary Jane told him, strength echoing in every word, “so don’t worry about pushing me with this training. Whenever and wherever the time comes for me to use it, I want to be ready!”

“Hopefully, that time comes later than sooner,” he said.

They shared another caring smile. While there was only so much assurance she could give, even as the Red Queen of the Hellfire Club, Mary Jane did her best. She gave him a soft, loving kiss, one that conveyed both strength and passion. It helped communicate that she was just as determined to be there whenever their responsibilities bred conflict.

* * *

**Skies Over Osaka – Present Time**

_‘I hope I’m ready for this. After all that training and worry from Peter…this may be my biggest test to date.’_

Mary Jane Watson spent a good chunk of her life adapting and adjusting to less-than-favorable circumstances. A big part of being a good prostitute, beyond just being good at sex, was navigating stressful situations and utilizing her various talents to get her through. Whether it was her social skills as a party girl or her sex skills as a prostitute, she had been in dangerous predicaments with dangerous people, including Shanobi Shaw, the Kingpin, and Dr. Doom.

For the situation before her, she faced a very different challenge. Her skills as the Red Queen, a former prostitute, and Spider-Man’s lover were about to be tested in a major way. Standing in front of a full-length mirror aboard the Hellfire Club’s private jet, Mary Jane began mentally preparing herself for that challenge, knowing there were still plenty of unknowns.

_‘Peter would not be comfortable with this plan. Hell, I’m not entirely comfortable with it, either. But if ever there was a time for Mary Jane, the Red Queen of the Hellfire Club, and Mary Jane, the former prostitute to combine their talents…this is it.’_

The Red Queen scrutinized her appearance in the mirror. She wore a custom-made variation of her Hellfire Club outfit. Emma Frost called it the business-casual version of Hellfire attire. It consisted of a low-cut dress, a matching blouse, and stiletto boots to complete the ensemble. Combined with Emma’s imported makeup, she had the look of someone who knew both the business and logistic aspects of sex.

It was not the first time Mary Jane had donned such attire. She often wore it when conducting the Hellfire Club’s various business matters. For the plan Jean had laid out, though, she would have to put it to use it in other, more _targeted_ ways.

“Yeah…okay, fine. We’ll be there shortly after you arrive,” said Jean, who’d been talking into a secure communications link for nearly a half-hour. “Don’t worry. We’ll be there and you’ll be well-compensated…I know. You expect more than just money these days. You can lay out your terms after we’re done. Over and out.”

The Black Queen sounded exasperated as she closed the link, setting aside her laptop and taking an extra-large gulp of her alcohol-laden drink. She sounded more stressed than either her or Emma Frost. Mary Jane couldn’t blame her, either. She was still very worried about Wolverine.

On paper, it should’ve been a typical rescue mission for the X-men. They’d probably done plenty of them, including a few involving Logan. Jean and Emma even wore their X-men uniforms, looking ready for combat. However, given their lack of manpower and unique circumstances, they needed a different approach to this mission.

“This plan of ours…the margin for error is going to be _distressingly_ small,” said Jean, shaking her head in dismay.

“Is it because of the favors we’re calling in, just to be in position?” Mary Jane asked.

“It’s not just that,” she said. “We still don’t know who or what we’re up against. Even with the combined resources of the X-men and the Hellfire Club, I haven’t uncovered anything other than location and credit requirements for this high-stakes auction. Given the figures involved, it’s no wonder this is attracting every evil organization from Madripoor to Wakanda.”

“Always a telling sign,” said Emma Frost, who’d been sitting in one of the passenger seats. “The fact they managed to get representatives from all those organizations shows that Pierce’s old contacts are still active, even if he’s not.”

“Are we sure that’s the case? Could this just be some of Pierce’s people auctioning off some high-end hardware to the highest bidder?” asked Mary Jane.

“That would be the _best_ case scenario,” said Jean, “but it wouldn’t explain Logan’s disappearance or why there was an influx of adamantium restraints into Osaka three days ago.”

“That’s even more telling,” said Emma. “Any luck finding that Yukio woman that always seems to get Logan into trouble?”

“Kind of,” Jean groaned. “One of our contacts confirmed what I’d feared. Yukio somehow ended up in a coma at a Madripoor hospital…two days _before_ she sent Logan that letter. She should wake up in a day or two, but that just shows someone went to a lot of trouble to get Logan to Japan for this auction.”

There were a lot of disturbing possibilities. Going into a situation with so many unknowns was always risky. Ironically, the X-men’s concerns for a mission mirrored those of a high-end prostitute. That gave Mary Jane some assurance that she was equipped to handle her role. That didn’t make the risks any less serious.

“He’s definitely involved, somehow. I’m sure of it,” said Jean, her concern for her friend showing as she paced throughout the plane. “He’s got a lot of enemies here in Japan.”

“Technically, you can say that about everywhere he’s been,” said Emma, gulping down the rest of her drink.

“The enemies are a uniquely _tenacious_ in this part of the world. Logan once told me both his roots and his scars run much deeper in Japan.”

“Sounds like Logan is _terrible_ when it comes to pillow talk,” said the White Queen.

“He also told me those same enemies know how to hurt him worse than most,” said Jean, “and you know as well as I do that Logan’s enemies rarely stop at hurting just him. A lot of innocent people tend to get caught in the crossfire.”

“You can blame the man for a lot of things, but you can never say he doesn’t make quality enemies,” Emma said with a sigh.

“Which is why stopping them and saving Logan has to be part of the plan,” said the Black Queen strongly.

Jean stopped pacing and turned towards Mary Jane. The Red Queen showed as much strength as she could. While she didn’t have the same personal stakes to the mission as Logan, she understood why she had to be part of it.

Emma had warned her about it the day she took the job as the Red Queen. Being part of the Hellfire Club also meant being part of a world that put her in the path of some pretty devious individuals, even more so than her previous life as a high-end prostitute. Jean hadn’t been part of that world. Despite her and Emma’s power and status as X-men, their role was limited.

“I know I’m putting you on the spot, Mary Jane,” Jean told her. “Believe me when I say I wouldn’t have gotten you involved if we weren’t so short-handed.”

“I believe you,” said Mary Jane with a confident smile, “and don’t worry about it. We’re Hellfire queens. We share lovers and orgies together. It’s only fitting that we share our problems too.”

“This is more than a problem. This is a threat that the Hellfire Club is in unique position to confront. The X-men aren’t usually in this position and we need to make it count.”

“I think Mrs. Grey-Summers is _trying_ to say a lot of her plan hinges on you doing your part and doing it damn well,” added Emma Frost.

Jean scolded Emma for her remarks, but didn’t contest them. The White Queen then set her empty liquor glass aside and approached Mary Jane as well. This plan wasn’t as personal for her, but it still mattered a great deal for her, the Hellfire Club, and the X-men.

“This is one instance where the X-men can’t just fly in, throw around some psychic attacks, and hit up a sushi bar after,” Emma continued. “Beyond not knowing Logan’s status, this auction is taking place in one of Pierce’s old robotics factories. Before he met his untimely death, he made it a policy to retrofit all his facilities with robust psychic shielding and advanced anti-mutant counter-measures.”

“If _that_ weren’t enough, the auction has a very strict no-mutant policy,” said Jean. “Nobody with an X-gene can get within 100 feet of the place. Someone even hired Pierce’s old Reaver buddies to enforce it.”

“I get it, guys,” said Mary Jane with an exasperated sigh. “I have to get in. I have to create an opening so that you two can be X-men. That’s my role.”

“Ideally, that’ll be your only role,” Jean continued, “but be ready for the possibility that the plan will change. It always does when it involves Logan, Weapon X, and this many unknowns.”

“You can stop warning me about the danger, Jean. I get that too,” said Mary Jane. “I’ve been putting myself in danger since the first time I charged for a blowjob. I’m not going to fold under the pressure.”

“I expect you to be more resilient than most. That’s why you’re the Red Queen,” said Jean, offering a friendly gesture. “Just understand that these are _unique_ dangers…the kind that test X-men and Hellfire queens alike.”

She gave the impression that she didn’t think Mary Jane was ready for something like this. Had it not involved Donald Pierce, Wolverine’s enemies, and any number of other criminal organizations, she might have been insulted. Knowing the greater implications, as well as the personal stakes in play, the former prostitute didn’t take too much offense. She accepted Jean’s concern as genuine, but maintained the poise befitting of the Red Queen.

“I appreciate the sentiment, Jean,” said Mary Jane, “but I intend to do my part. I may not have mutant powers, but I can take care of myself. I just have to do it my way.”

“Keeping in mind that you’ll only get so far with these people by flashing your tits,” commented Emma.

“Maybe in another life, I’d rely on those tactics,” said the Red Queen, “but for this, I intend to employ _others_ I’ve learned since joining the Hellfire Club. You know better than most I take my responsibilities seriously. Rest assured I’ll find a way to get you into this auction so you can rescue Logan.”

She probably came off as more confident than she actually felt, which was somewhat redundant in the presence of two powerful telepaths. Her thoughts must have reflected that confidence because the two women smiled back at her. Emma looked especially proud, as though she spoke with the power of a true Hellfire Queen. Mary Jane couldn’t help but take pride in that.

As they all mentally prepared themselves for the plan, the felt the private jet shift. Outside, the clouds gave way to the Osaka skyline in the distance. According to the local time displayed on the TV monitor hanging from the wall, they had less than two hours before the auction began. It promised to be the most dangerous, yet ambitious mission the new Hellfire Club had attempted to date.

 _“Attention, my queens,”_ said the pilot from the cockpit, who had been paid extra to keep Hellfire activates private. _“We are beginning our final approach. I can confirm that your private transport is waiting for you on the tarmac.”_

Checking her appearance once last time in the mirror, Mary Jane gave her fellow queens one last sign of confidence before returning to her seat in preparation for the landing. All the training she got from Peter and the mental toughness she’d gained from her years as a prostitute was about to be tested.

“I’m ready!” said the Red Queen as she strapped herself in. “These guys think they’re safe from the X-men, the Avengers, and SHIELD. Let’s show them they don’t stand a chance against the new Hellfire Club!”

* * *

**Up Next: Dangerous Games**


	2. Dangerous Games

** The Red Queen Chronicles: The Lost Son  
Chapter 2: Dangerous Games **

* * *

**Pierce Robotics Research Lab – One Week Ago**

“Please…give me more.”

“Can’t…stop. Can’t…go on.”

“Don’t know…how much…more I can take.”

Those slurred, muffled words echoed throughout the lab, much to Romulus’ satisfaction. The final test had gone even better than he’d hoped. The synthetic pheromones that he’d spent so much time refining worked perfectly. His plan had evolved a great deal over his long and brutal life, but the ultimate payoff was within his grasp.

“You hear that, Daken?” he said to the younger man standing next to him. “This is thanks largely to you. Your mutant ability to produce pheromones was the final key. Thanks to the late Donald Pierce’s contributions, their true potential can be unlocked!”

Daken Akihiro – the colorful, yet charismatic son of Wolverine – stood stoic and still as he watched the scene before him. Romulus didn’t expect much of a reaction, having maintain a firm control over him since long before his plan took shape. He still hoped a part of him could appreciate the spectacle that had played out in the confined lab.

It wasn’t as elaborate or messy as other experiments involving Weapon X. In a large area once used to test cybernetic implants, there were six clear plexiglass cells that measured only three meters by three meters. Within those confined areas where a collection of random individuals that the Reavers – who Romulus took control of after Pierce’s death – had plucked off the streets. They consisted of prostitutes, runaways, and a few low-level thugs from the Yakuza, none of which would be missed. Their lot in life didn’t matter. Only their role in his plan mattered.

After knocking them out and putting them in the cells, Romulus let them wake up. He’d even given them a good ten minutes or so to yell at him, cuss him out, and beg for their release.

 _“You sick fuck! Let us out!”_ said some random run-away.

 _“You have any idea the kind of people I know?”_ said a low-level Yakuza enforcer.

 _“I’ll kill you, I swear!”_ said an angry female prostitute.

 _“Please! I’ll do anything you want…anything,”_ said another prostitute.

Romulus didn’t say a word. He just stood next to the control panel, let them try to escape their confinement in vain, and then flooded their cells with the pheromone. The results were both immediate and impressive.

In an instant, everyone in the cells stopped yelling. They then moaned and groaned, writhing in discomfort as though something had crawled into their brains. Some resisted more than others, but the end result was the same. Once the pheromone took hold, they all played their part.

First, they all stripped naked, tearing their clothes off as if they were on fire. Then, they turned to whoever happened to be in their cell with them and started having sex with them. It wasn’t chaotic or random, either. They went at it as though they were following a script that had been laid out to them. Unlike psychic manipulation or mental conditioning, it was not a case of mind and body subverting one another. It was perfect, unfettered control.

Each subject played their part to perfection. One Yukuza enforcer had been on top of a prostitute for nearly three hours now, still fucking her at the same fervent pace. A young runaway lay on his back, remaining still and prone as another female prostitute kept riding his cock as she’d been riding it for hours. Another enforcer had a runaway woman on her hand and knees while he stood behind her, fucking her ass without a moment’s rest. One of the other cells even had two women who had been giving each other oral sex for hours on end, barely even pausing to breathe.

The pheromones did more than give them the insatiable urge to fuck. They had been targeted in a way to affect them in specific ways. For some, it rendered them submissive and prone. For others, it made them more active and aggressive. In both cases, their minds and bodies were directed towards a singular purpose. While it did cause plenty of strain, as evidenced by the grunts and grimaces on the face of every subject, they still did what Romulus wanted. They were completely under his control.

“You might be thinking they’re just reacting the way your lovers react,” Romulus said to Daken, making sure he never turned away. “I know how you’ve _employed_ your pheromone powers in the past. You see someone you want. You target your pheromones accordingly. You guide them into feeding your desires. It doesn’t matter if they’re men, women, or something else entirely. You use it to get what you want.”

He wasn’t telling Daken anything he didn’t already know. Romulus had seen him recklessly indulge with his power, whether it was in shady bars in Madripoor or on some elaborate mission. He knew how to use his pheromone powers to feed his selfish whims, but even those efforts only went so far. Romulus dared to take it even further.

“You’d still be wrong if you thought _that_ was all I’d done with your talents,” said Romulus. “You may create desire and vulnerability in others, but they still retain control over their bodies and minds. That is the limit of targeted pheromones…at least, until I came in.”

Romulus stood behind Daken and put his hands on the younger man’s shoulders. He felt in his flesh the same strength and power that he’d sensed in Wolverine. He also sensed a burning desire to fight such control. He even noticed Daken’s fist clench, hinting at the burning resentment inside. That didn’t matter, though. It only further proved his point.

“These refined pheromones…the kind that Weapon X failed to develop,” he went on. “They do more than just guide desire. They _overwrite_ it. They tap into the same instincts that no human, mutant, or sentient creature of any kind can resist and mold it to perform a task. For some, that task is mere obedience. For others, it’s more _elaborate_.”

He had Daken watch more decadence unfold. By now, the strain on all the test subjects was apparent. They all had dazed vacant expressions. Some were even drooling, the line between pain and pleasure having long since disappeared. The pheromone had made it so orgasms and strain came in cycles. It was either one or the other for them with nothing in between. Their bodies were like machines stuck in certain settings and their minds trapped in two states.

“Pain…pleasure…too much,” one of the prostitutes moaned.

“Please…make it stop,” said one of the men.

Romulus just grinned and shook his head. That was the only part of the process he hadn’t perfected. Even though the pheromone induced near-perfect control of mind, body, and desire, some traits remained active. The ability to speak was one of them, but Romulus didn’t mind that. It was a minor inconvenience at best.

“Their bodies are going beyond their limits. Their minds are shackled by their desires,” he continued. “Instinct binds them together, so much so there’s no hope of escaping it. Their thoughts may be desperate, but instinct and desire always win out. And on the off-chance you don’t appreciate the breadth of my control, allow me to make one last demonstration.”

The imposing figure stepped back from Daken, but made sure he was still looking at the test subjects in their cells. As they kept fucking each other in an endless stream of decadence, he made a quick adjustment to the control panels that fed into the pheromone dispensers. Then, with the push of a button, he initiated the last part of the experiment.

A sharp hissing sound briefly filled the lab. At the top of every cell was a special dispenser that had been flooding the cell with pheromones since the test began. Those same dispensers made an ominous noise that sounded like an alarm. It signaled that a different blend of pheromone had just flooded the chamber…one that had a very different effect.

“Hnn…that smell,” one of the women groaned.

“It smells like…” began another.

However, that was all they got out. As soon as the pheromone took hold, each one of the test subjects froze in place. Then, their eyes widened, their faces contorted, and a new instinct took over.

“HRRRAAAHHHHHHHH!”

That sounds – the same sound that resembled the berserker rage of Wolverine, the original Weapon X – rang out from within each cell. Romulus’ smile widened as he watched these ordinary people, who had never even been conditioned at the level of Weapon X, erupted into a murderous rage that would’ve made Wolverine cringe.

Now, instead of fucking each other to no end, those in the cell relentlessly attacked, fighting each other like a bunch of wounded animals. Like their sex, it wasn’t chaotic. It was targeted. They attacked each other in a specific way, biting and scratching at each other’s faces. Blood soon gushed from open wounds. Cries of pain mixed with roars of rage.

Finally, once again following a script, they each grabbed one another’s throat and squeezed with all their might. Just as before, they were unable to resist. They followed their murderous desires, even when their bodies and minds urged them not to. Within moments, their cries fell silent. Their eyes rolled into the back of their heads. There were only a few bloody coughs before they all fell limply to the floor.

A deathly silence followed. Romulus lingered in that silence with Daken, even savoring it as they took in the bloody scene. It was so brutal and bloody, but it proved his point beyond any further doubt. It also sent a clear message to Daken.

“I trust I’ve made my point,” Romulus told him, finally breaking the silence.

“Hnn,” was all Daken got out.

“I’ll take that as a yes…not that it matters,” he scoffed. “Now, come with me. There are a few things I need to show you before we proceed. For what I have planned for you and your father…well, let’s just say you’ll need to be _equipped_.”

* * *

**Pierce Robotics Corporate Headquarters – Present Time**

The ride from the airport to the site of the auction had been uneventful. Mary Jane wasn’t sure if that were a good or bad sign, but she tried not to think in such terms. Having gone into plenty of dangerous situations as a prostitute, she understood better than most that dread was first step vulnerability and whether she was a prostitute or the Red Queen, she could not be vulnerable.

 _‘I’m almost there,’_ Mary Jane said via telepathic link. _‘These are the fancier parts of Osaka’s business district so expect the psychic dampening fields to go up fast.’_

 _‘Yeah, I can already sense it,’_ Jean replied. _‘There was even some in your limo. Emma and I are having to combine our efforts just to keep the link open.’_

 _‘Oh, stop complaining, Jean. We’ve seen each other naked and pinched each other’s tits,’_ Emma said coyly. _‘This should NOT make you uncomfortable.’_

_‘Stay focused, Emma. My concerns have less to do with comfort and more to do with timing. We’re keeping our distance as best we can, but we’re really cutting it close here. As soon you see your opening, Mary Jane, you need to take it.’_

_‘No need to add to the pressure, Jean. I know my role. Just tell me my cover is still intact,’_ said Mary Jane.

 _‘If it weren’t, you wouldn’t have gotten two blocks from the airport,’_ Emma said. _‘Those favors we called in are working. Officially, you’re a designated liaison of holding company that took over Shaw Industries after Sebastian’s untimely passing.’_

_‘I’m not sure I want to know how you pulled THAT off, but I’d be lying if I said I weren’t curious.’_

_‘I’ll share all the shady, but legal business tactics with you later. All you need to know is that you’ve got the authority, credit history, and connections to rub elbows with this sinister crowd…among other things. That disguise we provided you will ensure you’re not recognize on the wholly possible chance you’ve slept with one of these men at some point.’_

Mary Jane wanted to roll her eyes at the White Queen’s remark, but she made a valid point. During her days as a prostitute and a stripper at the Hellfire Club, she served more than a few dangerous figures. Given her skill and effort, she made quite an impression on her clients. That was good for her business as a sex worker, but it might work against her for this mission.

That was why, before she evens stepped off the plane, Emma and Jean fitted her with a special necklace that had been disguised as an overpriced piece of jewelry. It contained an image inducer, courtesy of Beast from the X-men. In fact, the one she used belonged to Nightcrawler, but had been modified to project a very particular image.

Looking at her reflection in the window of the opulent limousine, she saw a face that wasn’t hers and wouldn’t be recognized, even by someone she’d slept with. Her skin complexion, eyes, cheek bones, and hair style had all been changed. She now resembled a young brunette woman with short hair, dark lipstick, and dark eyes. While her body and attire remained unchanged, she looked less like the Red Queen and more like someone’s big-breasted secretary.

“I can make this look work,” Mary Jane said to her reflection.

Her appearance was the easy part, though. There were other parts of the plan that required more than just tact.

 _‘They’ll probably test you for mutant abilities, weapons, and a wire at the gate,’_ Jean continued.

_‘Will that involve stuff with a rubber glove? Because that might step up the time tables.’_

_‘Sorry to disappoint, but they’ll probably have something more high tech than that,’_ said Emma.

 _‘Once you’re inside, the clock starts,’_ Jean continued. _‘The first thing you’ll need to do is confirm Logan is there. Our sources have given us plenty of hints, but we need confirmation. As soon as we have that, we’ll act.’_

 _‘You really think they’ll be that transparent?’_ asked Mary Jane.

 _‘They’ll have to be,’_ said Emma. _‘For shady auctions like this, they need the goods to be on-site and verifiable. Otherwise, nobody would bid a penny.’_

 _‘And we can’t let the bidding start,’_ said Jean. _‘If we let it get to that point, it’ll already be too late. That’s why you’ve got to make your move before that. You need to find a way to short out the security system so…’_

Unfortunately, that was as far as Jean got. Shortly after the limousine turned off the main road and onto a private street, the telepathic link faded like a phone losing service. Mary Jane briefly tried to re-establish contact, clutching her temple and trying to refocus her thoughts. It was no use, though. Outside, the limo had already pulled into the shadow of Pierce Robotics’ corporate headquarters.

“Are you all right back there, ma’am?” asked the limo driver, who bore a uniform that identified him as one of Pierce’s old Reaver.

“I’m fine,” Mary Jane said, maintaining her cover. “I’m just a little jet-lagged. My associates were very anxious to partake in this meeting. They did not give me much time to prepare.”

“I promise there’s a reason for that…one you don’t need to know,” the driver said. “If your associates are as well-connected as I’ve been told, then I think you’ll find our hospitality is worth the lag.”

“It damn well better be.”

She tried to sound menacing and not in a seductive way, for once. It silenced the driver so she must have done enough. She’d learned more from Emma Frost than she realized. Hopefully, that was the only trait she’d to do her part.

Gazing outside, the Red Queen watched as the limousine drove past a secure gate, which was guarded by more Reavers. Unlike the driver, their cybernetic arms were clear for anyone to see. Whoever was behind the auction wasn’t taking any chances. He probably had an army of Reavers guarding every floor, ready to strike on a moment’s notice. The danger could only escalate from here on out.

Mary Jane remained calm, pretending to be an overpaid consultant who just flew halfway around the world on behalf of nefarious people with too much money and time on their hands. After passing through the secure gate, the limousine entered an underground parking garage. However, it looked less like a garage and more like a hanger for a military operation.

She saw more Reavers walking around, manning advanced combat vehicles and security positions. Near as she could tell, there was enough firepower to take over Osaka by the end of the night. It might have just been a way to let all the bidders know that they were in a secure area and any effort to undermine that would _not_ be tolerated, but Mary Jane assumed that showing off so much firepower was meant to send a subtler message.

_‘Looks like Jean and Emma have their work cut out for them. Then again, if I do my part well, it won’t be any harder than it has to be.’_

The Red Queen maintained her poise as she took in more of her surroundings. As the limousine pulled up to a loading area, she noticed that a few other representatives had already arrived. She saw people bearing the insignias of Hydra, AIM, the Humanity Coalition, the Serpent Society, the Kingpin, the Hand, and several other organizations she didn’t recognize, but had probably clashed with Spider-Man at some point. She might have to resist the urge to deck some of them in the jaw.

“There better not be anyone from Oscorp,” she muttered under her breath.

She waited for the limousine to come to a complete stop. Then, the driver got out and opened the door for her. Mary Jane, checking her disguise in the mirror one last time, gathered a purse and a tablet computer that Emma had provided. Upon stepping out, she quickly found herself surrounded by representatives of some of the most sinister organizations on the planet. Even for the Red Queen, it was a daunting moment.

“Please make your way through the lobby,” the driver told her. “The auction will begin in a half-hour. Our benefactor has prepared accommodations and refreshments in the main ballroom.”

“How generous of him,” said Mary Jane, doing her best Emma Frost impression. “I’m tempted to ask his name, but I presume I’m better off not knowing.”

“And you’d be correct,” said the driver. “There will be no names exchanged or spoken at any point during the process. Only the product and the means of payment matter here.”

“As it should be,” said Mary Jane. “The people I work for are very _results_ -oriented. I intend to deliver and look good doing it. That’s what they pay me for.”

The driver cracked a smile. She even sensed him looking down her blouse, which Mary Jane purposefully left unbuttoned to show some of her cleavage. That was an encouraging sign. It showed that, despite being cybernetically enhanced, the Reavers retained some of their biological vulnerabilities.

_‘They’re cyborgs, ninjas, and terrorists…but they’re still men. I can work with that. I just need an opportunity. It’s like Peter once told me. Good heroes make the most of their luck, but responsible heroes make their own.’_

* * *

**Pierce Robotics Main Lab**

“Is he ready?” asked an impatient, but eager Romulus.

“Just a few more minutes, sir,” said an anxious female doctor.

“You have 60 second. Make them count.”

Those harsh words got the woman working faster. The time was almost upon them. Romulus’ extensive efforts were about to bear fruit. Wolverine had done plenty to delay it, having undermined his plans on more than one occasion. However, it was only a matter of time before he succumbed. He thought he could escape the web of lies that Romulus had carefully laid out for him. He thought wrong.

The extent of his foolishness was apparent as he stood in the center of a metal platform, still as a statue and utterly obedient. He was fully conscious, albeit to a point. He’d been so heavily dosed with the pheromone that he might as well have been lobotomized. The man that had gone by so many names – Logan, James Howlett, Patch, and Wolverine – had been effectively locked in the mental equivalent of an adamantium cage. In his place was a creature of raw instinct and perfect obedience.

“Weapon X…the Wolverine…kuzuri…the wild man,” Romulus said to the stoic figure, “no matter what you called yourself, you could never escape your fate. You were always a part of someone else’s plan. Fight it all you want. Become a loner, a hero, or a brute. You were always going to end up like this.”

Logan’s blank expression twitched, hinting at some lingering resistance within. Romulus imagined he was practically raging within, a caged animal fighting desperately to get out. That animal might have escaped in time to slay the likes of Weapon X. It would not succeed against him.

Romulus glared at the doctor and her various support staff as they fitted several IVs into Logan’s arms, legs, neck, and torso. They worked quickly, operating the various medical equipment within the lab to pump his prized subject with a concentrated dose of pheromone that would render him completely obedient. From here on out, it wouldn’t matter how much he raged or resented his captivity. His baser instincts would keep him in check. That made him the most valuable asset in his arsenal, one that many would pay handsomely to possess.

Given how Logan had undermined his efforts before, it was both fitting and overdue. He needed to recoup some of the cost that went into conditioning him. If the pheromones proved effective, then the payoff would be immense and not just in terms of money.

As Romulus contemplated that payoff, he turned towards Daken, who had been standing obediently by his side since Logan first arrived. It was disappointing that he had to exercise such harsh control over Daken. He’d hoped to avoid that, even going through the trouble of convincing him that Logan was responsible for his mother’s death. That proved ineffective and potentially damaging, but Romulus still intended to get some use out of Logan’s bastard.

“I suppose it’s both fitting and tragic that your son will endure a similar fate,” Romulus went on, “but don’t worry. Daken will still fit into my plan…just not in as much as I’d hoped.”

As the doctor finished injecting Logan, Romulus retrieved another vial of the pheromone from a nearby synthesizer. His gaze then narrowed on Daken, who’d been staring at his father for much of the process.

He couldn’t help but wonder how such a colorful, yet damaged man viewed his father now. At one point, he hated him with such a passion. Romulus tried to exploit that hatred, but it only went so far. His feelings for his father might very well be more complicated, but it still didn’t matter. He still had a purpose to serve.

“I know you’d rather see your father get auctioned off, like the meat puppet he was meant to be,” said Romulus, “but I need you to be on guard. Despite all the precautions I’ve taken – including, but not limited to the complete take-over of Donald Pierce’s Reavers – I’m not so foolish to think that’ll be enough. Someone will be foolish enough to try and stop this. Of that, I’m certain. That’s why I need _you_ to be my wild card, Daken.”

Romulus then opened the vial of pheromones and waved it under Daken’s nose. The effects were almost immediate. The rebellious, but misguided young man clenched his fists, drawing the unique set of claws that so reflected his heritage to Logan. His face also tensed with a mix of rage and resentment.

“Errr!” Daken growled with a fervor that would’ve made his father proud.

“I know you hate it, but trust me. Resisting only makes it worse,” said Romulus. “I need you to patrol the perimeter. Monitor everything and everyone in the building. If anyone or anything dares interrupt…well, I trust you’ll instinctively know what to do.”

With a snarl and a growl, Daken stormed out of the lab like an angry dog that had been let go. Romulus just watched and grinned, confident that even if someone were foolish enough to attack, they wouldn’t get far. His plan was too complete and his control too strong. Anyone who undermined that would face a wrath like no other.

“Sir…he’s ready,” said the anxious doctor, having injected the last of the pheromone into Logan.

“Excellent!” said Romulus as he signaled the Reavers to assist him. “Now go! Tell the rest of the staff to maintain the perimeter while I escort our prize to the auction. I wouldn’t want my prospective buyers to get restless, after all.”

* * *

**Pierce Robotics – Main Ballroom**

“I don’t know about you guys, but I’m getting bored,” said Mary Jane Watson as she sat casually at the open bar.

“We’ve only been here for fifteen minutes,” said a representative of AIM. “How can you _possibly_ be this impatient?”

“Patience may be a virtue for you science types, but for my people…not so much,” she quipped.

So far, Mary Jane had played her part well. Nobody had uncovered her identity. Nobody had tried to kill her either. In a room surrounded by Hydra agents, AIM representatives, Hand ninjas, the Serpent Society, Kingpin henchmen, and representatives from any number of known terror organizations, it counted as an accomplishment. She was still playing a dangerous game and working against the clock.

Just getting to the main ballroom had been a test of nerves. After entering through the underground parking garage, she’d stood behind an accountant from Hydra and in front of someone claiming to be an officer from the Serpent Society as they went through multiple layers of security. It was both nerve-racking and painfully thorough.

Every weapon had to be surrendered at the gate and every electronic device had to be scanned. That didn’t bother Mary Jane, but it certainly upset representatives from the Hand that they couldn’t bring their katanas into the auction. Beyond that, there were several gates, each guarded by a contingent of Reavers and a series of scanners, each looking for various threats. Mary Jane had to regulate her heart rate and hide her nervousness with every scan, trusting that Emma and Jean’s counter-measures were effective.

Just as Emma suspected, Donald Pierce had invested quite a bit in screening everyone who entered the building. That included X-rays, full-body scans, X-gene detection systems, and nullifier fields for anyone attempting to smuggle in energy weapons. Through that arduous process, she made it to the ball room in one piece where she immediately went to the open bar to get a drink. From there, it was a matter of waiting for the right moment and making the right move.

_‘Emma and Jean are probably getting pretty anxious. I haven’t even confirmed Logan is here. I’ve either got to buy time or get lucky…and I hate relying on luck.’_

Mary Jane took another sip of her martini, which was being served by a Reaver with multiple arms behind a fancy bar. Looking around, the Red Queen scrutinized her surroundings in search of an opportunity.

The ballroom of Pierce Robotics’ corporate headquarters was better than most, but still not the fanciest Mary Jane had ever seen. It was pretty spacious, built with professionalism and comfort in mind. It had the bar in the back, a series of fancy tables scattered throughout the area, some music from a speaker system, and a buffet line on the east wing. At the front of the room was a large stage area lined with tables and computer equipment. It reminded Mary Jane of some of the award ceremonies that big companies threw. She knew because she’d acted as dates for some deep-pocket executives during her time as a prostitute.

The difference between those gatherings and this was the mood. There was nothing festive or celebratory among the crowd. Everyone seemed to be suspiciously eyeing one another, questioning the value of the auction in the first place.

“This better not be a waste of time,” said a well-dressed representative from the Kingpin to one of his associates. “These dark auctions are really hit-or-miss and the boss _hates_ missing.”

“Yeah, especially lately,” said his associate. “Heroes, mutants, and vigilantes are really cutting into profits. Hell, even Hydra is feeling it.”

“I heard that!” said a nearby Hydra representative. “I assure you, we are as strong as ever…especially compared to petty criminals.”

“Says you,” scoffed someone from the Humanity Coalition. “You see what happened to the Purifiers recently? They thought they were pretty strong too.”

“And you think you can take their place?” teased a green-skinned figure from the Serpent Society.

“We’re trying,” he said, “just like I’m sure your folks are trying to take Roxxon’s place. How’s that going, by the way?”

The Serpent Society figure hissed at the man, as only a snake-man could. Mary Jane bit her tongue to keep herself from commenting. She knew about some of those details, having helped contribute to both the fall of Roxxon and the Purifiers. Jean had warned her that the Humanity Coalition was trying to fill the void with their Predator X program, but they were a shell of what the Purifiers had been. Based on mood, pretty much every organization felt the same.

_‘They’re all really anxious and desperate. That must mean my work with the Hellfire Club is making a dent. All the more reason to NOT get caught here. At least now, I know why they’re taking a chance with an auction like this.’_

The tension was palpable. Mary Jane finished her drink quickly, which helped calm her nerves. That put her at an advantage, but it wouldn’t do her much good if she didn’t make a move soon.

As she twirled her empty glass in hand, she turned back towards the bartender to request another drink. She then noticed him step back for a moment and activate a wrist-mounted communicator. He was talking under his breath due to the music, but Mary Jane was close enough to listen in.

“Yeah, they’re all here, but speed it up! They’re getting restless and skeptical,” the bartender said. “Better get the merchandise out on stage fast. Once they see the legendary Wolverine all quiet and obedient, they’ll get with the program.”

Mary Jane’s hid a subtle gasp. That officially completed the first part of her mission. She confirmed that Wolverine was in the building. Emma and Jean had worried that Logan might have been hidden somewhere far away so that the auction could be held remotely. That might have even been the initial plan, but no evil organization – especially not a desperate one – would’ve placed a bid if they couldn’t confirm it was real.

It came as both a relief and a telling sign. Logan being on-site meant that the mission involved more than just infiltration. It was also a rescue mission. That raised the stakes and stepped up the time tables.

“How much longer? Really? Another ten minutes?” the bartender groaned. “Tell boss he better hurry. The food, drinks, and music _aren’t_ helping. I don’t care if he guts you on the spot, we need to get the party going here!”

Whoever was behind the auction sounded pretty ruthless. The bartender, despite having cybernetic enhancements, sounded terrified at the prospect of upsetting him or the guests. Looking back at some of the nefarious guests, she sensed everyone’s patience wearing thin.

“These cyber men are _so_ clumsy,” said a female representative of the Hand, who sat a few seats down from her. “I swear they’ve all been tripping over their gears since the fall of Donald Pierce.”

“On top of that, their choice in hard liquor is _awful_ ,” added Mary Jane.

“Don’t get me started. If they’re _this_ cheap with their drinks, then it’s no wonder they’re having an auction,” the woman said.

“Everybody needs funding, I guess,” said an AIM scientist who was working on his third drink. “Too bad accommodations are the first thing to go.”

“I’d stab someone if my people weren’t so intent on new resources!”

The two angry figures glared at the bartender, who was still arguing with someone over his communicator. Mary Jane saw some sweat forming on his forehead. He was nervous and the impatient crowd of super-villains wasn’t helping. It was the first time the Red Queen felt that she actually had an advantage.

At that moment, an idea came to her. The bartender mentioned that the merchandise – which she now knew was Logan – wouldn’t be out for another ten minutes. Jean and Emma told her that if she let the auction began, then it was too late. She had to pull out and they had to find another way to save their friend.

However, ten minutes was a lot of time for her, a former prostitute and self-proclaimed party girl. Seeing so much tension and desperation in the room, she saw an opportunity to exploit it and she took it.

“You’re both right. This is unacceptable,” said Mary Jane, pretending to be appalled as she slammed down her empty glass. “If our gracious host won’t accommodate us, then I guess we’ll have to take matters into our own hands.”

“And just how are you going to do that?” asked the female Hand representative skeptically.

“Watch me!”

With the confidence and bravado of the Red Queen, Mary Jane stormed across the room and towards the stage. Along the way, she passed by a Reaver who had been playing the music and guarding the rear exits. As she approached, she undid another button to her blouse, showing more of her cleavage. She then leaned over and made a request.

“Do me a favor, Mr. Cyber Stud,” she said in a seductive tone. “Play something louder and faster…something that’ll make it more fun to get out of these itchy, overpriced clothes.”

The Reaver, who had mechanical legs, but plenty of male hormones, just looked at her dumbfounded and nodded. The fact her breasts were just a few inches from his face when she made that request probably influenced him too.

“Uh…yes, ma’am,” the Reaver said.

She flashed him a coy grin before casually jumping up on the stage, grabbing a half-empty water bottle that had been left there by another Reaver. There was also a microphone near a podium on the stage. She grabbed that, tapped on it to get the attention of everyone in the ballroom, and made her move.

“Hey! I don’t know about you guys, but I’m tired of waiting for the goods,” Mary Jane shouted to a confused, but curious audience. “I say if our gracious host is going to test our patience, then we should at least make the most of our time.”

At first, there was confusion and some annoyance from some of the more uptight individuals, especially from Hydra and the Hand. Mary Jane, having an uncanny talent for affecting those types of people, channeled her stripping talents from her days at the Hellfire Club.

As soon as the Reaver she flirted with earlier started some music – specifically, music that actually had a rhythm and a base to it – Mary Jane took the bottle of water and poured it over her blouse. Almost immediately, the thin fabric clung to the outline of her breasts. It also revealed to anyone nearby that she wasn’t wearing a bra underneath. That drew intrigue from even the uptight figures in the crowd.

“What the hell is she doing?” said the woman from the Hand.

“I don’t know, but I like it!” said a Hydra representative.

As the music started playing, Mary Jane began dancing. She swayed her body to the hard, face-paced rhythm of the music, setting a very sensual tone and drawing more attention. At one point, she turned around and bent over, giving everyone nearby a quick peak up her skirt, revealing that she wore a _very_ revealing thong. That elicited the first round of cheers.

“That ass,” said a thug from the Kingpin, “where do I bid on _that_?”

“I bet the Kingpin would pay top dollar for that too,” said one of his associates, who shoved his friend aside to get a better view.

“Now this is my kind of hospitality!” said a male Hand enforcer.

“I’m curious,” said a man from the Serpent Society. “Is this part of the auction?”

“Don’t know. Don’t care. Now, step aside!” said an AIM scientist. “ _This_ is something worth studying.”

Before long, sizable crowd formed around the stage. Hydra, AIM, the Hand, the Humanity Coalition, the Kingpin’s thugs, and any number of devious individuals stood together in a surprising display of unity to admire Mary Jane’s sexy show. Even some of the Reavers who were supposed to be guarding the scene moved closer to get a better look.

It was kind of amazing, seeing even admitted criminals unite after being so hostile. It almost worked too well, but the Red Queen didn’t hesitate to use that to her advantage.

“What say you, my fellow deviants?” she called out while unbuttoning her blouse. “Does being so bad make you feel good?”

“Yeah!” they cheered loudly.

“Then, let’s get _really_ bad tonight!”

In a move that generated an even louder cheer, Mary Jane tore off her blouse, not bothering to unbutton the last part so that her breasts hung free under the bright light of the stage. Still dancing to the music, she got down on her knees and leaned over so that her audience of evil henchmen could get a closer look. Some even reached up to touch them. Only a lucky few got a hand on her cleavage, but that was fine with her. It just made them hungry for more.

Some even got into it. A few of the female representatives of Hydra and the Hand looked up at her with that devious, but competitive gaze. They saw the attention and cheers she got. They wanted some of that too. A few women from Hydra began loosening the top parts of their uniforms. The female representative from the Hand did the same, already trying to make her way to the stage.

“Lady, if you think you’re going to steal the show from the Hand, you’ve got another thing coming!” the woman said.

Mary Jane cast her and the women from Hydra a confident sneer, goading them even more. They responded just as she’d hoped, getting up on stage with her and doing their own little striptease to elicit cheers. They had some catching up to do, though.

The Red Queen remained the star of the show, swaying her torso and fondling her breasts. More cheers followed. Some even threw water and alcohol up onto the stage, splattering onto her face and breasts. She took advantage of that too, sensually licking it up and raising the stakes. Before she knew it, all eyes were on her and her tits.

_‘Now’s my chance! I honestly can’t believe it was this easy.’_

Now, certain that everyone in the ballroom was sufficiently distracted, she made the move that would give her fellow queens the opportunity she needed. Reaching behind her, she pressed a small button in the heels of her heeled boots. Emma said they were the same boots she’d once used to infiltrate the old Inner Circle before the X-men took them down. They had a special device inside the heel that disrupted anti-mutant countermeasures, including telepathic shielding.

Just activating them inside the building wasn’t enough, though. She had to get them near a power source so that they could short-circuit the systems throughout the building. Mary Jane might not have been an expert hacker, but she understood how electrical systems worked. With the device in her boots activated, she sensually unzipped the boots and threw them up over the audience as hard as she could, hitting and breaking some overhead lighting in the process.

“Oops!” she said teasingly. “Guess I’m _that_ bad of a girl!”

“Fuck, I’ll pay for that out of my paycheck if I can see that ass again!” said one of the Reavers.

“Ooh! Sounds like a good deal to me!”

Nobody seemed to be too concerned about what just happened. A couple overhead lights were broken and still sparking. She even saw her boots land on top of a table, breaking some plates and glasses in the process. If the tiny light in the sole were any indication, then the device inside had been activated. That meant the rest of the mission was on Jean and Emma.

_‘There’s your window, my fellow queens. Make it count! All I can do from here on out is keep these assholes distracted and horny. Lucky for me, that’s my specialty!’_

* * *

**Meanwhile – Several Blocks Away**

Jean Grey-Summers had been pacing restlessly for what felt like hours, but it had barely been twenty minutes. She and Emma were enduring the worst part of her plan, waiting for Mary Jane to disable the anti-mutant security measures at Pierce Robotics. There was no guarantee that she would succeed. For all she knew, they had just sent their fellow queen on an impossible mission.

“I _hate_ this,” Jean groaned, hugging her shoulders anxiously. “I hate this with every fiber of my being.”

“In case you’ve forgotten, this is your plan, darling,” Emma reminded as she leaned back on a nearby wall.

“Don’t remind me. I’m just…not used to making plans that require this much stress. Now I know how Scott must feel whenever he has to rely on Logan or Gambit in a mission.”

Emma just rolled her eyes, showing much more confidence in Mary Jane. She still sensed some amount of concern as they waited and watched from the rooftop of a mid-sized office building. Jean would’ve preferred to be closer, but Pierce’s systems were too advanced.

If she walked across the street, then the building would’ve pick up on her presence. Both telepaths and mutants were high priorities in that system. Emma claimed Pierce had made it with the intention of picking up on Sebastian Shaw, his spies, or anyone else that tried to undermine his activities. Having already lost telepathic contact with Mary Jane, she could already sense how robust those systems were. The longer they stayed online, the more worried she got.

“She’ll be okay, Jean,” said Emma. “Mary Jane can take care of herself. Trust me, she’s tougher than she looks.”

“Guess she’d have to be after stripping at the Hellfire Club,” muttered Jean, “but I just can’t fight this sinking feeling.”

“What? That she’ll screw up? That they’ll pick up on those little counter-measures I built into those tacky boots of hers?”

“All that and then some,” said Jean. “I just have this feeling that there’s something else at work here…something we can’t plan around, even if Mary Jane does her part perfectly.”

“Spoken like someone who has been married to Cyclops too long,” quipped Emma.

“I know. I _hate_ assuming the worst, like this. I’m usually the one trying to be hopeful in situations like this. But when the situation involves Logan and relying on someone who isn’t trained for these sorts of missions, I just find it so hard to…”

Jean stopped herself in mid-sentence. She’d just sensed something that stopped her train of thought, as well as her restless pacing. Emma sensed it too, immediately becoming more alert and placing her hand on her temple. Like a sudden alarm going off in the distance, they sensed something in the direction of Pierce’s headquarters.

“Oh my God, she fucking did it,” said Jean in astonishment.

“And you had the audacity to doubt her,” teased Emma.

“Shut up, Emma! Work with me so we can triangulate the…”

The Black Queen had to stop herself again as she concentrated on the task before her. It was like large stereo had suddenly been unmuted, filling the area with surge of telepathic activity. With Emma’s help, she sifted through the psionic noise of telepathic thoughts. It didn’t take long for them to make out some familiar minds.

 _‘Jean…Emma…if you can hear this, Logan is here. That means you’re up!’_ said Mary Jane.

 _‘I hear you,’_ Jean replied, _‘and I can sense him to…kind of.’_

 _‘Kind of…never a good sign with Logan,’_ noted Emma.

 _‘I’ll take it over nothing,’_ said Jean. _‘He’s there. That’s all I need to know!’_

Her X-men training took over from there. Using her telekinetic skills, as well as a touch of Phoenix Force, Jean levitated her and Emma into the air and flew them over the Osaka skyline towards Pierce Robotics. The hardest part of her plan was officially over. From here on out, their tactics were more direct.

“I’ll drop you in low,” Jean told Emma. “You know the outline of this place better than I do. Make your way to the ballroom, meet up with Mary Jane, and attack as many minds as you can along the way.”

“Sure, send _me_ in through the front door,” said Emma. “Make _me_ responsible for a psychic onslaught that’s supposed to disrupt an entire contingent of Reavers.”

“I’m also sending you into the arms of Donald Pierce’s people…the same Donald Pierce who sent multiple Reaver contingents at you the day you left the Inner Circle. You’re welcome.”

Emma cast her a half-grin. Jean made it seem so appealing. Being the vindictive woman she was, the White Queen was sure to enjoy it more than she should have, especially for a rescue mission. Jean expected her fellow queen to be extra ruthless with Pierce’s people. That promised to make her job that much easier.

The building was already in view. From the outside, it looked pretty secure. Inside, however, she sensed many hostile minds, some more dangerous than others. Logan was among them. She was certain of that.

However, something had happened. Someone had done something to him. They needed to free him. That someone would learn the hard way that trying to control Wolverine and hurting the people she cared about _never_ ended well.

“I’m going to break in through the executive suites on the 16th floor,” said Jean. “I’m going to find Logan and get him out of here before things get too heavy. If his mind is as damaged as I sensed, I may have to knock him out.”

“I’m sure he’ll get over it, darling. He’s seen you naked. He’ll forgive you for damn near anything,” Emma teased.

“I’m more concerned about whoever did this to him,” said Jean as she prepared to launch her attack. “We don’t know who we’re dealing with here so be careful! Chances are they already know something’s up. There’s no telling what sort of countermeasures we’ll face.”

* * *

**Pierce Robotics – Rear Staging Area**

Control was a precious thing. Romulus often argued that it was, by far, the most valuable resource. No weapon, treasure, or asset was of use to anyone if it couldn’t be controlled to some extent. It was for that reason that any loss of control was akin to losing a small fortune.

“What the hell is going on out there?” asked a deeply annoyed Romulus. “Why am I hearing blaring music and raucous cheering?”

“That’s…not an easy question to answer, sir,” said one of the Reavers guarding the secure staging area.

“Then, _simplify_ it for me!”

The lone Reaver glanced awkwardly at his contingent, which consisted of a ten heavily-armed elites who’d been tasked with subduing Wolverine if he, by some miracle, escaped his control. They were supposed to be the best of Pierce’s cybernetic warriors. Now, they were looking at each other and trying not to laugh like a bunch of immature children.

“Uh…well, those deep-pocketed guests you invited got a little too restless,” he finally said. “One of them decided to pass the time by starting a party. One of them even got up on stage and started stripping.”

“And doing a damn good job of it, from what I hear,” said another Reaver with a grin. “My buddy working security detail says this one girl is a goddamn pro. He even got these girls from Hydra and the Hand to make out while…”

The man finally stopped himself, but only after several of his squad mates signaled him to shut up. It was too late for Romulus, though. He was _pissed_. He’d expected a certain amount of deviance by inviting so many criminal organizations to the auction, but he hadn’t expected _this_.

Looking back towards the still, yet conscious Wolverine, Romulus considered his next move. At the moment, a few Pierce technicians were preparing Logan to ensure he remained a docile, appealing package. They had him standing on a special metal platform, which was armed with a shock system that would paralyze him if he so much as twitched awkwardly. They also placed special adamantium around his legs and arms for good measure.

It was all part of a meticulous plan, one that Romulus had laid out to the second. Changing the timetables would’ve thrown _everything_ off. He couldn’t afford to lose that much control. It undermined more than just the auction.

“It seems we’ll have to adjust. The auction _must_ proceed, as planned,” said Romulus, his voice brimming with anger. “Redirect your forces and settle our guests. If they’re not ready in time, I’ll rip off all your limbs and replace them with discarded soda cans. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir,” said the lead Reaver anxiously, the rest of his squad falling into line as well.

“Good,” said Romulus. “I need a little more time to secure our product. You’d best make use of it before…”

He didn’t get to finish that threat, though. As he stared down the unit leader, the door from the corridor leading to the lab burst open and another Reaver came rushing in. Romulus growled angrily, ready to rip apart anyone who further undermined his control. He stopped just in time to see his panicked expression.

“Lord Romulus, sir! We have a problem,” said the Reaver in an urgent voice.

“For your sake, it better involve more unwarranted revelry,” said Romulus.

“I…I’m afraid not,” he said. “I just got a call from our techs upstairs. They said something shorted out the nullification fields.”

“As in, the same nullification fields preventing mutant and telepathic intrusion to this entire building?”

“The very same, sir. They’re trying to reboot it as we speak, but the software keeps freezing up. They’re saying it’s _not_ just a glitch.”

Romulus went from simmering rage to escalating suspicion. Donald Pierce had constructed this building with the intent of thwarting any attack by mutants, psychics, or something of the sort. For those countermeasures to fail just in time for his auction – one that had already been undermined by rowdy guests, no less – it couldn’t be mere coincidence.

Still fuming, he turned his attention to Logan. If he weren’t still so valuable in his controlled state, then Romulus might have taken out his frustration on him. However, he needed him in one piece to salvage his plan.

“It’s his friends in the X-men. It _has_ to be,” said Romulus while sneering at Logan. “They shouldn’t have been able to find me. I took every precaution. I planned around every hero being preoccupied. I even killed and tortured all the necessary people…Yukio and Daken being the most necessary. And still, they defy me!”

He drew his claws and pointed them at Logan’s face, growling angrily at the disruptions his friends were sure to cause. Logan, still under the influence of the pheromone, didn’t react. He just stood there on the platform, his legs and feet bound. However, Romulus swore his lips twitched a little, as if to grin as the unexpected complication.

In what little remained of Logan’s free mind, he probably trusted that his friends would come to his aid. He might have been biding his time, preparing for that moment. Romulus stopped short of making him regret it, relying on his friends. Disruptions aside, his plan still had plenty of contingencies…more than Logan’s friends could possibly anticipate.

“I hope you weren’t placing too much trust in your friends,” Romulus told the unmoving Logan. “If you thought I hadn’t prepared for the possibility, then you’re gravely mistaken. I’m still in control. I still have all the leverage. The arrival of your friends just means someone will pay a higher price…and not just in terms of dollars or yen.”

He snarled at Logan again, making it clear that nobody would come to his rescue. His friends, whoever they were, had no chance of undermining his plan. They could frustrate him all they wanted, but they couldn’t stop him.

“Sir,” said the Reaver who had delivered the news, still anxious. “How do you want to handle them? We’ve already got reports of psychic disturbances on the ground level. They’re picking up even more up top.”

“They’re attacking from multiple fronts. That’s smart, but predictable,” said Romulus, still glaring at Logan. “For now, redirect our security forces to the ground level. Take out the source of the psychic attacks and get our guests ready for the auction. If they ask, tell them that’s just noise from another party someone started.”

“It’ll be done,” said the Reaver. “What about the attack up top?”

“Don’t worry about that one,” said Romulus with a devious grin. “If these attackers are who I think they are, then I believe _that_ problem will solve itself.”

* * *

**Pierce Robotics – Executive Suites**

_‘Hold on, Logan. I’m on my way!’_

Jean sent that telepathic message shortly after bursting through the main window of an executive office on the 16th floor. The glass had been bulletproof, but that was hardly enough to stop a determined X-men armed with the power of the Phoenix Force. She had the mind, the firepower, and the necessary motivation to find her missing friend. There wasn’t much that could stop her.

“A big mess and no stealth,” said Jean upon landing, “Logan would be proud…and probably turned on.”

With brimming confidence and focus, the Black Queen entered full X-men mode. She took in her surroundings, finding herself in an empty office covered in boxes and empty desks. Pierce Robotics had seen better days. The loss of their founder had hit hard. Jean hoped this would be the final death blow.

Still surrounded in a Phoenix halo, she levitated off the floor and began navigating the vast building. The various psychic and anti-mutant defenses were still down, just as she and Emma had hoped. If everything went according to plan, then would remain the case. Since X-men rarely relied on assumptions, she had to work quickly.

_‘A lot of hostile minds here…some more guarded than others. Most seem to be heading to the ground floor. Guess that means Emma is causing plenty of trouble, as she often does. I need to use that to my advantage.’_

Making her way through the winding corridors of the building, Jean followed the gap in psychic signatures. Any Reavers that had been on the 16 th floor were heading towards the elevators or rushing down the stairs, most likely to provide backup down below. She surmised that none were using the freight elevators on the east wing. Emma told her those elevators were her best bet at getting to the ground floor without going through too many obstacles.

As she made her way in that direction, she kept scanning for stray minds. The building’s defenses might have been down, but there were still plenty of countermeasures to hinder a skilled telepath. She kept getting jumbled psychic signatures, not unlike static from a faulty antenna. She tried to focus on finding Logan, but a few select signatures also caught her attention.

_‘Hmm…this is strange. And that’s rarely a good sign. I can still sense Logan, but there’s another mind in the building…one different from all the others. It feels distressed, yet detached…as though the thoughts are disconnected from the feelings.’_

It was the telepathic equivalent of sensing a computer error. It kept popping in and out, so much so she couldn’t get a location. She didn’t let that slow her down, though. She kept moving forward, going out of her way to avoid any lingering Reavers who were rushing to the bottom floors.

“Move faster, damn it! We’re on high alert!” she heard one of them yell. “All Reaver units get down to the base level and secure the entrance. Lock down any and all access points. Kill anything that tries to get in or out until ordered otherwise!”

Jean landed just outside a central lobby area, turning off her Phoenix halo so she could remain stealthy. She peaked around a corner just in time to see the last round of Reavers storm into the elevator while others used the stairs. She bided her time, waiting for just the right moment to make her move. A lifetime of Danger Room training and getting roped into Logan’s personal affairs kept her undetected, allowing her to slip by.

Running full-speed the rest of the way, conserving her mental strength, she ran towards the end of the hall that led to the freight elevators. She didn’t sense a Reaver nearby. In fact, the hallway leading to the elevator wasn’t even lit, another ominous sign of Pierce Robotics’ poor state. Near as she could tell, the elevator still had power and the Reavers were still distracted.

“Almost there,” Jean said under her breath. “Hang in there, Logan!”

She reached out to push the button. Then, to her surprise – a rare feeling for a powerful telepath – the elevator door opened. At that moment, that jumbled mind she sensed earlier re-emerged. This time, however, it had a male figure and face to go with it.

“Jean…Grey,” the man said.

“Who are…” Jean began, but that was all she got out.

Before she could put up a telekinetic shield, the man attacked, letting out a feral snarl that sounded too much like Logan to be a coincidence. Jean’s combat training kicked in, taking a defensive stance and grabbing the man’s arms before he could subdue her. Unfortunately, his reflexes and his strength proved too much. He still ended up pushing her back down the hall, eventually bursting through a half-open door and into what appeared to be an employee lounge.

Not wanting to be cornered, Jean regained enough leverage to push back with a healthy dose of telekinesis. That effectively stopped the attack, throwing him across the room in the process. However, with reflexes that also reminded her of Logan, the man landed on his feet and let out a predatory growl as he took on an aggressive stance. Already, her mind made a few telling connections.

“Your thoughts,” said Jean, “so disjointed and messy. Something happened to you…the same thing that happened to Logan.”

“Errr Logan!” the man growled.

Hearing that name triggered a burst of rage. The man attacked again. This time, Jean managed to shove him out of the way with her telekinesis and avoid it. The man just jumped off the wall with uncanny acrobatics and tried to attack again. Jean stumbled back, deflecting him again. She also tried to scan his chaotic mind.

That proved difficult. It was like someone had shoved layers of concrete barriers into his psyche. In Jean’s experience, that wasn’t natural. Either someone had pumped an unsafe amount of chemicals into his brain or he had conditioned him to operate with a fragmented mind. Given Logan’s history with Weapon X, the implications were disturbing. Within that fragment, though, she was able to glean some information.

“Daken…your name is Daken,” Jean said after deflecting another attack. “Someone is using you and…”

The powerful psychic froze as she picked up a stray thought that most psychics would’ve missed. It had been attached to his name and connected to his identity. Within that portion of his mind, she uncovered a revelation that was sure to shake Logan to his core.

“Oh my god!” Jean gasped. “You’re his son! You’re Logan’s…”

“HRRAAAAHHHHH!” Daken roared before she could finish.

Again, the mention of that name evoked unparalleled rage. There was probably a reason for that, one that went beyond the mission and didn’t have time to investigate. In berserker rage that would’ve made his father proud, he charged at Jean with his claws fully drawn. Rather than deflect him, though, she stopped him just a few feet from where she stood and levitated him in the air. Now holding him in place, she got a better look at Logan’s long-lost son.

It was a shocking revelation, learning that Logan had a son – a son with tattoos, a Mohawk, and a similar disposition for feral rage, no less. He even had claws, albeit the non-metal variety. They still looked deadly and he had clearly used them before. It raised all sorts of questions with Jean, which further sparked her curiosity. However, she hadn’t forgotten that Logan was still in danger.

“I was expecting complications on this mission, but _this_ …even by Logan’s standards, this is pretty astonishing,” said Jean.

“ERRRR!” Daken snarled, fighting her telepathic hold.

“I can sense you’re not entirely in control, Daken,” she continued. “Don’t worry. I’m going to free you _and_ your father. Fight this with me and the X-men can help you!”

The feral mutant kept struggling. Jean wasn’t sure if he’d even heard her. It didn’t matter, though. She intended to keep her word. First, she had to settle him out.

Despite his severe thrashing, Jean took several steps closer, so much so that she was almost within range of his claws. She then reached out to touch his temple, attempting a more thorough psychic probe. Before she could start scanning his thoughts, though, something unexpected happened.

Daken stopped thrashing. He even stopped growling angrily, that berserker rage from earlier disappearing instantly. His gaze now narrowed on Jean, a strange grin formed on his face…one distinctly _unlike_ Logan.

“Took you…long enough,” he said.

For a moment, Jean was confused. The next thing she knew, a strange scent filled the air around her. It had a weak, but distinct smell, resembling a mix of cherry blossoms and incense. Before her senses could process it, an unexpected feeling came over her.

“Hnn…what the hell?” she groaned.

In an instant, all that focus and determination faltered. Stumbling back, Jean clutched her head and hugged her shoulders. Her legs became weak, her thoughts became spacy, and the air around her felt ten degrees hotter. It became especially hot between her legs, as though something had just flipped every switch controlling her basic arousal. As a result, higher thought – the most critical kind for a psychic – gave way to baser instincts.

As she struggled to process surge of feelings, her telekinetic hold on Daken broke. He landed on the floor, his gaze never diverting from her. He didn’t even attack her. He just watched in amusement.

“Pheromones,” Daken said. “Potent, aren’t they?”

That effectively answered one question. It also revealed that Daken had abilities that went beyond his father. There was no way ordinary pheromones could have had such an effect on her. Jean knew that effect well, having experienced it multiple times thanks to the Hellfire Club’s aphrodisiac-laced wine. The idea it could be induced by super-charged pheromones made too much sense.

_‘Fuck! Didn’t…prepare for this. Feeling…so hot. Can’t move. Can barely…think straight.’_

She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, surge after surge of adrenaline coursing through her system. It overrode her ability to use her powers, fight back, or stand up straight. She ended up stumbling back into a nearby wall next to an old water cooler.

Jean tried to escape the scent, but it just followed her. It seemed to emanate directly from Daken. That must have been his plan from the beginning – get her fighting, make it seem as though she was fighting a younger version of Logan, and wait until he got close enough to strike. She played right into his hands, leaving her to dread what the rest of his tactics entailed.

“Such power…and beauty,” said Daken, his voice somewhat disjointed. “He told me…my father’s friends might come. He even warned me…about how powerful they were.”

Seething with predatory, Daken approached her. With every step he took, the scent fueling Jean’s dazed state intensified. It got so intense that her legs partially buckled and she began fondling her breasts through her shirt. She even began rubbing her thighs together, becoming so horny that even her fear of what he planned to do to her.

Once he got within reaching distance, Jean was so hopelessly aroused that she couldn’t manage an attack, psychic or otherwise. She tried to avoid his penetrating gaze, but he just roughly cupped her chin and forced her to look him in the eyes.

“I am _not_ …like my father,” he told her. “What I am…what he is…couldn’t be more different. I hate him…so much. Our fates…always destined…to clash. Just…not like this.”

Jean could barely make sense of his words, but still understood the sentiment. Daken was angry and full of hate. Some of that hate was towards Logan, but part of him seemed conflicted. The way his face contorted and his gaze faltered hinted that there were other forces at work…forces she was in no condition to process.

“He wanted…me to kill you,” Daken continued. “Told me…my role to play.”

He then pointed his bone claws at her face, the tip less than an inch from her eye. Jean’s fear almost matched her arousal at that moment. She tried to move, but it was no use. Her arousal was just too intense, every sexual instinct in overdrive.

Daken could’ve easily killed her on the spot. However, he didn’t. In fact, Jean sensed him resisting the urge. He didn’t seem to be resisting very hard, though.

“But seeing you here,” he said, “Jean Grey…I can see why my father is so…fond of you. Your beauty…your power…so _enticing_.”

His tone took on a more lurid undertone. He grabbed both her wrists with one hand and pinned them against the wall above her head. He then trailed the tip of his claw down her face, barely grazing her skin, until he reached the top part of her X-men uniform. Even in her dazed sate, Jean quickly surmised Daken’s intent.

In his eyes, she saw two conflicting instincts clashing with one another. One urged him to kill her, which would’ve been easy and quick. The other urged him to do something more _elaborate_ in her vulnerable state…something that made a better use of Jean’s aroused state.

“I know…what I have to do…what I _need_ to do,” Daken said, struggling with every word. “Your life…is mine to take. I’d rather…take something else.”

Letting out another feral growl – one very different from earlier when he first attacked – his demeanor shifted as one base instinct won out over the other. No longer a predatory animal preparing to kill his prey, he took the poise of a powerful male who had just secured a submissive female…a very horny female, no less.

As he gazed upon her with less bloodlust and more ordinary lust, he used his claw to cut through the top part of Jean’s uniform. Before even getting all the way to the hem, he grabbed it by the front and ripped it off, along with her bra. Now naked from the waist up, her beasts exposed and so close to his grasp, she watched as Daken descended into a state of primal lust.

“Your breasts…mine to taste,” he seethed.

Diving deeper into that state, Daken eagerly buried his face in Jean’s breasts, embracing that state even more. He hungrily licked and suckled on her nipples, even biting around the sensitive flesh. It was rough and raw, but still sent shivers coursing through Jean’s body…sensations that further intensified her arousal.

He kept her arms pinned above her head, rendering her unable to resist his actions. Due to her arousal, though, she didn’t even feel inclined to try. She sensed the extent of his lust in the way he smothered her breasts. She didn’t need telepathy or all her mental faculties either. Daken’s plans for her were now abundantly clear.

_‘He’s going to fuck me. He’s going to take me in every way he wants. And there’s nothing I can do to stop him.’_

As that realization sank in, Daken gave her nipple one last lick, sensing a round of sensations that made her instinctively moan. Upon hearing that, he pulled his face away and narrowed his gaze on hers again. At the same time, Jean noticed a bulge forming in the tight-fitting black pants he’d been wearing. She didn’t get the sense that he was going to take her time with her.

“Turn around,” he said intently.

He barely gave her any time to comply. As soon as he let go of her wrists, he grabbed her by the waist and turned her around so that she was up against the wall, her hands and breasts now pressed against the cold surface. Whether out of fear or arousal, Jean offered little resistance. She just leaned up against the wall for leverage, bracing for Daken’s next move.

“Pants…off,” he said with another growl.

Just as he had done with her shirt, the feral man used his claw to tear through the fabric. He then used surprising strength to rip it off, along with her panties. He made sure she had nothing to hide her flesh from his, even ripping through her boots. It all worked to render her completely naked.

It would’ve been terrifying if her pussy weren’t dripping wet with arousal. The pheromones Daken had employed worked shockingly well, leaving he folds so moist. Her entire body, now exposed to the hot air around her, ached for sex. Her mind urged her to fight it, but it was no use. The desire was too intense and Daken’s hold on her was too strong.

Jean could already feel his gaze narrowing on her pussy and ass. She could hear his intense breathing, like a hungry animal waiting to gorge.

“Your pussy…so wet,” seethed Daken. “You need this…as much as I do.”

“Daken…” was all Jean could get out.

Still pressed against the wall, she turned her head just in time to see Daken shedding his pants, freeing his fully-erect penis from its confines. He hadn’t been wearing a shirt when he attacked, most likely to maximize the effect of his pheromones. Despite having such a different appearance from that of his father, he still bore a very fit and muscular body, which included a very sizable endowment.

After kicking his pants aside, he positioned himself behind her and firmly grabbed her by the waist. He then guided the tip of his rigid cock to her wet entrance. Without warning or care of any kind, the feral man let out another predatory snarl as he eagerly thrust his hips forward, driving his cock into her pussy.

“Oohhh!” Jean moaned.

“Yes!” grunted Daken. “Moan, Jean Grey! Moan…like a horny bitch!”

Jean’s face contorted to the intense feeling that followed. Her moist folds parted as his flesh penetrated hers, setting her lower body ablaze with hot sensations. In her dazed, overly-aroused state of mind, the basic pleasures of sex further obscured her senses as she succumbed to the primal desires of the flesh. It was really happening. Daken was fucking her and all she could do was moan louder.

Jean’s dazed cries filled the room as Daken pumped his dick into her pussy, grunting and snarling with each thrust. It wasn’t a playful, friendly kind of sex either. He fucked her hard and fast, his pelvis rhythmically smacking against her butt. He made no effort to ensure she enjoyed the sex, focusing entirely on extracting pleasure from her flesh. Any pleasure she felt was an afterthought at best. If anything, it was just his way of tightening his hold on her.

“Take it, Jean! Take it!” growled Daken. “Your body…likes it!”

Jean felt him lean in and nibble on her ear-lobe, which evoked even louder moans. The scent from his pheromones got even thicker, sending her body deeper into a state of pure arousal. Every touch, every motion, and every sexual gesture – no matter how rough or selfish – it still triggered the sexual sensations that Jean had come to love since joining the Hellfire Club. There was no meaning behind it. Her body had been reduced to that of a simple sexual machine.

That didn’t make those sensations any less intense, though. Jean felt her pussy throb around Daken’s cock every time he thrust it into her depths. Her body didn’t care about the source of the sex, so long as the feeling was real Daken pressed her up against the wall harder pressed her up against the wall, her nails raking down the wall and her hips shifting to the rhythm. More and more of that raw, unfiltered sensation shot up through her body, driving her deeper into her daze.

The feral man continued nibbling on her air, licking down her neck as he fucked her. He even stepped up the pace, giving her ass a hard slap in the process. That sudden surge of pain to mix with the pleasure overwhelmed her senses once more. Whether it was due to the pheromones or the extent of her arousal, it sent her to the brink of orgasm.

“Ohhh fuck!” Jean cried out.

“Yes! Come, Jean! Come, you horny bitch!” Daken roared.

It shouldn’t have been possible, her climaxing for a man who fucked her so callously. Her body betrayed her, though. So much stimulation on top of so much arousal, even if it had been induced rather than earned, led to an inevitable reaction.

It was as basic as everything else about their sex. Jean arched her back, bucked her hips, and threw her head back as the surge of sensations shot through her. It was as simple as an orgasm could be, not much different from one she got through masturbation. She still let out her loudest moan yet, which only seemed to encourage Daken.

“Yeah! That’s it,” he grunted. “You love it! You…love…to fuck!”

As she moaned, Daken grabbed her hair and pulled her head back even farther. She winced at the momentary discomfort, but that prompted him to fuck her even harder. She sensed him nearing a climax as well. He even gave her ass more slaps, further flooding her body with sensations.

“My turn!” he grunted. “Gonna…fill you…up!”

Jean let out more moans, leaning against the wall even harder as her legs remained weak from her orgasm. Her body remained at the mercy of its orgasmic state, her pussy continuing to throb as Daken pumped into her. He only finally slowed his motions when he crossed that special threshold, letting out a deep, feral growl as he climaxed.

“Hrrrrr yes!” Daken exclaimed.

“Hnn…Daken,” was all Jean could get out.

Even in her daze, she felt his cock throbbing inside her folds, shooting a hot stream of cum into her pussy. She also felt his grip on her waist intensifying, his nails raking along her flesh in a way that was sure to leave marks. It further blurred that line between pain and pleasure, making it even harder to collect her thoughts.

That was her main priority now. If her body wasn’t going to help, then she needed to get her mind working again. The pheromones, the arousal, the pain, and the pleasure had all converged to render her dazed. She had to regain some semblance of control if she was to escape Daken’s grasp.

_‘Need to…get a hold of myself. Can’t…lose sight of the mission.’_

As the feral man was dazed by his orgasm, Jean tried to catch her breath, hoping such vigorous fucking would render Daken distracted for a moment. Unfortunately, that moment passed quicker than she’d hoped.

“You want more,” he said breathlessly, “so do I.”

With another predatory growl, Daken swiftly withdrew his cock from her pussy, grabbed her by the shoulders, and turned her around. He then pushed her down to the floor so that she was on her knees, facing his dick, which was still fully erect. Like his father, he had a healing factor and that extended to his refractory period. In fact, his might have been even faster than Logan’s.

“Still hungry for cock?” he said. “Here…have more!”

He gave her no chance to respond or prepare herself. He just grabbed her by the side of the head, aligned it with his dick, and shoved it into her mouth. Jean, still dazed and aroused, instinctively opened her mouth and took in his length.

“Umf!” she grunted, gagging as his thick length stretched her jaw muscles.

Then, before she even had time to adjust, Daken began fucking her face. He tightened his old on her head, weaving his fingers through her hair as he worked his cock into her mouth, fucking it almost as hard as he’d fucked her pussy.

As good as Jean was at oral sex, especially since joining the Hellfire Club, she struggled to keep up with Daken’s lusts. She ended up clinging to his thighs, trying to maintain some semblance of leverage as he forced her head along the length of his dick. It tested her gag reflex, causing her to choke and cough a few times. That didn’t dissuade Daken, though. He just kept face-fucking her with abandon.

“Suck it…lick it…taste my dick,” he commanded.

He spoke with the tone of a man whose only concern was getting more pleasure from her. The longer it took for him to get it, the longer it would go on. Between her aroused daze and the lingering effects of her orgasm, Jean reverted to more instinct. It was literally the only option she could contemplate.

Closing her eyes, still trying to streamline her thoughts, Jean began licking and sucking as Daken’s cock slithered between her lips. She managed to temper her gagging, focusing on getting him off as quickly as possible, if only to minimize the strain.

That ended up taking less time than she’d thought. Before long, she felt Daken’s cock tense inside her mouth in anticipation for another release. He also stepped up the pace of his thrusting, really grasping her hair to the point of causing her pain. That didn’t seem to bother him, though. Only getting another release mattered.

“Gonna…come again,” Daken grunted. “Taste it! Taste my cum!”

Jean held back a few more gags, clinging to the feral man’s thigh harder as he took himself beyond the brink. Upon reaching his peak, he ceased his movements and let out another blissful howl as he released another load. He kept a firm hold on her head, making sure his cock was still in her mouth so that she had to taste every last drop of semen.

“Hngh!” was all Jean could get out.

It was a larger load than she’d expected, even for someone with a healing factor. Most of it went right down her throat with only some drippling down her chin. When Daken finally pulled his cock out of her mouth, she coughed and gasped for air. She tried to get up, but her legs failed her, the effect of the pheromones keeping her hopelessly aroused.

Jean’s head was still spinning. Arousal, lust, and instinct still overrode her capacity to refocus her thoughts. Her mind kept fighting, but her body would not. It seemed like a hopeless struggle.

_‘Need to…regain control. With THAT kind of healing…there’s no telling how far he’ll take it. I just need one chance…to make my move.’_

As Jean struggled, she looked up at Daken, who still stood over her with domineering authority. His face was still contorting from the pleasure of having face-fucked her to orgasm. His skin now glistened with sweat, his musk mixing with the pheromones. He still had a look of raw lust in his eyes, as though that were the only instinct he could exercise. It hinted that his ravaging of her was far from over.

However, in seeing such lust on his face, Jean noticed something in that brief moment when she was allowed to catch her breath. It wasn’t something she sensed with her telepathy, which remained muted in her aroused state. It was a sign, one written into his expression. It wasn’t a sign he tried to hide either. Daken was trying to tell her something. She was sure of it.

“Daken…I see it, now,” said Jean, still breathless.

“Hrrrrrrr more!” Daken exclaimed, strain echoing in his voice.

While still making the connections, the feral figure grabbed her by the shoulders again and pulled her back up her feet. She was still fully aroused, her pussy dripping with a mix of her juices and his cum. This time, however, she offered little resistance as he bent her over a nearby table so that her ass was pointed towards him.

“Your ass,” Daken said, “gonna fuck…your ass now.”

Jean instinctively gripped the edges of the table and braced herself, hoping his dick was still slick enough from her oral sex to limit the discomfort. Again, she didn’t resist as Daken positioned himself behind her, putting one hand on her hip while using the other to guide his still-erect cock to her tight hole.

“Do it,” Jean said. “Do…what you need to do.”

He responded with a deep, yet revealing growl. It was different from the ones she’d heard earlier. She couldn’t glean subtext from it, but it sent the necessary message and he seemed to get it.

_‘Good thing I’ve gotten so good with anal. This is going to test those skills.’_

Closing her eyes again, Jean braced herself for the coming lustful onslaught. Daken didn’t waste a moment. As soon as the tip of cock rubbed up against her asshole, he thrust his hips forward and drove his cock into her ass. Just as before, as soon as her tight flesh surrounded his, he began fucking her with reckless vigor.

Jean groaned as sharp stinging sensations shot up through her core. The lack of lubricant ensured the discomfort overshadowed the pleasure. It helped that she had so much experience with anal sex, allowing her rectal muscles to stretch and adjust to Daken’s length. There was plenty of strain, but Jean knew she could endure it. She even had a reason to endure it.

“Your ass…so tight,” Daken grunted. “Gonna fuck it…so hard!”

“I…can take it,” Jean replied.

Her words seemed to remove any bit of restraint Daken might have had. With both hands now firmly on her hips, he fucked her ass hard and fast, rapidly pumping his cock into her and rocking her body with every movement. Jean just clung to the table harder, her breasts pressed up against the dusty surface as she took in the steady onslaught of sensations. Some of it was pain. Some of it was pleasure. Neither feeling was the goal, though.

_‘Need to focus, here. Daken has the easy part. I need to do the hard part…for both of us.’_

Her body kept rocking and so did the table, so much so that the legs squeaked loudly with every movement. Jean, still dazed from the pheromones, did her best to steady her breathing so that she could focus her thoughts. She didn’t need much for what she planned to do. She just needed enough.

As Daken kept fucking her, his pelvis rhythmically slapping against her ass, she felt his sweat dripping down onto her lower back. That was _exactly_ what she’d hoped for. If Daken was as cunning as his father, then he shared that hope.

“Harder!” Jean urged him. “Fuck my ass harder!”

He responded with another feral moan, his most desperate so far. His fucking went into overdrive. There was no focus or technique to it anymore. He just kept rapidly thrusting his hips, raking his nails over her flesh as he worked his cock into her ass. It put plenty of strain on Jean’s body, even after her inner muscles had adjusted to Daken’s cock. However, it helped him work up more of a sweat and that was the key.

 _‘My ass is going to be so sore. But it’s working! I can already feel it. The pheromones…they’re_ _fading.’_

The air around their naked bodies was thick with sweat and sex, but that was the point. That thick musk began mixing with the pheromones that had rendered her so dazed. The more Jean smelled that sweaty musk from Daken, the less she felt the effects of the pheromones.

Those overwhelming instincts began to taper. Her thoughts became more coherent again. She still couldn’t employ the full force of her powers, but she didn’t have to. If she was to save herself and Daken, for that matter, she had to be very targeted and that meant waiting for just the right moment.

That moment approached fast. Like their previous two sex acts, Daken neared his peak fairly quickly. That was still his primary focus. That was the major instinct at work. He kept pumping his cock within her ass, working his way to another release. Jean just kept biding her time, absorbing the sensations of pain and pleasure that kept coming, preparing to make a move that might determine whether the mission was still salvageable.

“Soon!” Daken said, more desperate creeping into his voice. “Gonna…cum in…your ass…soon!”

“I’m…ready,” Jean told him.

She held onto the table, enduring the last onslaught of hard fucking. She had to time it just right. She had to make it worth the extra soreness.

That moment finally came, along with Daken. As soon as he passed the orgasmic threshold, he let out another euphoric howl. Jean felt his dick throbbing inside her ass, releasing another load of come and all the pleasure that came with it. That was when Jean made her move.

“Now!” Jean shouted.

In that moment – Daken being so dazed by the pleasure, neither fucking her nor attacking her in any capacity – Jean unleashed a wave of telekinesis that didn’t just knock Daken across the room and away from her body. It also cleared the air around her, blowing away the pheromones that had rendered her so vulnerable.

It was like blowing up a barrier that had kept certain parts of her brain from working together. Instincts finally balanced out with higher thought. Parts of her body remained sore, especially between her legs. However, she regained control and was finally able to collect herself.

“That…is a move you can’t learn in the Danger Room,” she said, taking deep breaths and regaining a sense of balance.

Still leaning on the table, she turned around to see that Daken had landed pretty hard. He flew across the room with such force that he made a sizable dent in the opposing wall. He’d also hit his head on an exposed pipe, causing a gaping wound in his head right next to his mohawk-style hair. He was still conscious, but in a great deal of discomfort. Unfortunately, that too had been necessary.

“I’m sorry, Daken…kind of,” said Jean. “I know what you were doing. I understand your situation. You either had to kill me or fuck me. Only one of those gave me a fighting chance. I wish it hadn’t come to this, but…”

Daken let out a light grown and a growl, the wound on his head already healing. Jean sensed it wouldn’t be long before he recovered completely. His healing factor was already at work. Before he healed too much, though, she used her telepathy to fully knock him out.

“Hnn…Jean,” Daken muttered as he settled. “Find…my father.”

“Don’t worry. I will,” Jean assured him.

When he passed out, she made sure he was out cold. He was still under the influence of whatever had been done to control him. She wasn’t sure if it involved only pheromones or some form of mind control, but it at least confirmed part of what she suspected. Someone had picked up where Weapon X left off in turning mutants into weapons. That didn’t bode well for Logan’s condition, but her being able to free Daken revealed that the control could be broken.

With that important knowledge in mind, Jean didn’t take too long to gather herself. She was still sore and her legs were somewhat weak. However, her mind and body were ready for battle, once more. The mission had encountered an unexpected and _strenuous_ complication, but she’d gotten through. Jean Grey, the X-men might have struggled, but Jean Grey, the Black Queen, found a way.

Despite being sweaty, naked, and still reeking of sex, Jean stormed out of the room and towards the freight elevator. She still had a friend to rescue. On top of that, she had a promise to keep.

_‘I’ve lost too much time. I need to get to Logan. I also need to let Emma and Mary Jane know about the pheromones. And at some point, I need to find some clothes. But if I have to do the rest of this mission naked, so be it!’_

* * *

**Up next: Carnal and Cunning**


	3. Carnal and Cunning

** The Red Queen Chronicles: The Lost Son  
Chapter 3: Carnal and Cunning **

* * *

**Pierce Robotics Research Lab Ballroom – 15 Minutes Ago**

“Take it off! Take it off! Take it off!”

Mary Jane had heard those cheers many times before, both from ordinary men who just wanted to see her tits and from horrible human beings who lived only to cause trouble. While on stage, putting on a sexy show for all to see, the differences that divided villains from ordinary people faded. Something about that felt oddly poetic.

It was distressing on some levels, but encouraging in others. It showed that even the likes of Hydra, the Humanity Coalition, AIM, and the Hand had the same vulnerabilities when it came to sexy shows. It also reaffirmed her ability to be the life of the party, no matter the situation.

“Come here,” said an aggressive female Hydra agent, who had stripped down to her underwear. “Let me show you why Hydra women are the best!”

“You dare challenge the sex appeal of the Hand?” said a female Hand agent, who was topless.

“Ladies, please…let’s save the hostilities for the Avengers,” said Mary Jane, still playing her part as a representative of a villainous organization. “Besides, there’s a much better way to prove yourselves!”

Having instigated the impromptu sex show, the Red Queen took it to another level, once more. She’d already stripped out of her blouse and shed her bra, giving every devious man in the ballroom a perfect view of her tits. However, she sensed they wanted more and it didn’t just involve her and two other women getting naked.

With a bold assertiveness that Hydra and the Hand probably weren’t used to, Mary Jane grabbed the two women by the head and pulled them together so that the three of them kissed simultaneously. Naturally, it drove the audience wild.

“Yeah, kiss her hard!” one of the Hydra agents.

“I think this might be the start of an alliance…a very sexy alliance,” said a high-ranking Hand officers.

“I’m still waiting for them to take it all off, but I’m okay with this,” said a representative from the Humanity Coalition.

“As am I,” said an AIM scientist. “Some spectacles transcend the beauty of science.”

Those cheers, along with the music that the Reavers played, made for a very sensual atmosphere. Much to Mary Jane’s surprise/relief, the two women eagerly kissed back. In fact, they were downright competitive, trying to outdo one another in terms of sexual spectacle.

The woman from the Hand mashed her breasts against Mary Jane’s, really rubbing their nipples together heard. The woman from Hydra slapped both their butts, taking full advantage of Mary Jane’s low-cut dress and thong underwear. The Red Queen didn’t mind, though, and not just because she was competitive either.

“That all you got?” said Mary Jane, sounding more devious than she had in quite some time.

“You…are a very devious woman,” said the woman from the Hand. “I like it!”

“I’ll do you both…on this stage if I have to!” said the woman from Hydra.

“That a threat or a promise?” said Mary Jane.

“Quit turning me on so damn much! Trust me. You can’t handle what I can do.”

The two women were very motivated and Mary Jane was ready to match them. She was prepared to do a live sex show, complete with a pussy eating contest followed by a blowjob competition. She figured that would give Jean and Emma more than enough time to rescue Logan. If all went well, she would be the only one who actually enjoyed herself on the mission.

As Mary Jane began kissing the two devious women again, slapping both their asses and throwing in some extra tongue, she heard an unexpected voice in her mind.

 _‘Hope you’re not having too much fun, darling. I’m on my way in!’_ said Emma Frost through her telepathy.

 _‘Already?’_ Mary Jane replied, doing her best to keep the show going. _‘You mean that stunt with the heels worked?’_

_‘You almost sound disappointed, darling.’_

_‘I’m not, I just…thought I’d end up having to do more. I didn’t even have to take off my panties.’_

_‘You’d best keep them loose. I lost psychic contact with Jean a few moments ago and need to step up my time-tables. I can sense traces of Logan’s mind, but it’s messy and it’s bound to get messier so better keep up the act!’_

That might have been the easy part. The two women on stage with her were fully into the sexy spectacle. The woman from Hydra even reached up her low-cut skirt and trailed her fingers along the outline of her pussy. That attracted even more attention. Some of the Reavers who had been on guard even lowered their weapons to get a closer look.

The act was working even better than Mary Jane had expected. The two women on stage seemed to completely forget about the auction, as did much of the audience. Once they realized what was going on, their mood was sure to change.

 _‘Their psychic defenses are down. The rest of their defenses are following suit,’_ Emma continued. _‘These Reavers have pathetic mental shields. I’m going to make my way inside and be as reckless as possible.’_

 _‘I’ll be waiting. Just…don’t expect me to do much fighting,’_ replied Mary Jane, just she pinched the nipples of the female Hand representative. _‘I’m not exactly in a good position, so to speak.’_

_‘I’m not the least bit surprised. Don’t worry. I’ll try not to demand too much. Just don’t be surprised if we end up having to improvise. The kind of people who mess with Logan tend to make things challenging for us and not in a fun way.’_

* * *

**Pierce Robotics Rear Staging Area – Present Time**

“This is wrong. This is all going horribly wrong!” barked an increasingly furious Romulus. “I don’t know who I’ll have to kill, but everyone in this building is a candidate.”

The frustration and anger had boiled over. What began as a simple annoyance – his unruly guests starting a deviant stage show while he got Logan ready for auction – had devolved into a full-blown attack on his once firm control of the situation. Now, as he gazed at the still-unconscious Logan that remained strapped to a special gurney, he Romulus contemplated an unthinkable recourse.

Officially, the auction was to begin in three minutes. He could still hear the music, cheers, and general raucous from the ballroom as his guests continued their impromptu sex show. However, that had since become a secondary concern at best. Moments ago, he just got a report from one a Reaver lieutenant. Nearly every defense contingency he’d put in place was failing. Everything that he had so carefully planned was falling apart as though fate itself had conspired against him.

“We’re…still looking into the defense network, sir,” said a very nervous Reaver lieutenant. “All the cameras, turrets, and lockdown mechanisms are down. We suspect it was some kind of data surge.”

“From an external hack?” asked Romulus, already dreading the answer.

“No, sir…internal,” said the Reaver, taking a step back and guarding his major organs.

Romulus growled angrily, clenching his fists and fighting the urge to maim Logan out of spite. It was one thing for the building’s psychic and anti-mutant defense systems to fail. For the entire defense network to shut down, including everything from the cameras to the fire alarms, hinted at a much more calculated attack. It was too precise, even for Logan’s powerful friends. It led Romulus to suspect that the attack went beyond a simple rescue.

“There’s more, isn’t there?” he surmised, still glaring at Logan.

“Um…” the Reaver lieutenant stammered.

“Tell me now and I promise _not_ to kill you,” he said sternly. “I need to know how badly my carefully-crafted plan has failed.”

The hapless Reaver still hesitated. Romulus drew his claws, letting him know he’d die if he tried to hide the truth. Lucky for his vital organs, he got the message.

“Before the network went down, our tech guys um…picked up on something,” the Reaver said as he nervously tapped on a small tablet computer.

“What kind of _something_?” Romulus asked, already enraged by the answer.

“The uh…well, the accounts we set up for the action showed a surge in activity. They’re getting a _huge_ influx of money. I’m talking millions at a time. It might even be a billion by now.”

Romulus’ rage turned to confusion. He finally glanced towards the Reaver and grabbed the tablet computer from him, which had already brought up a display of all his secure accounts. Sure enough, they had all gone up value…a lot. With each passing second, transfer after transfer flowed into the accounts.

While part of Romulus’ plan involved making a substantial profit by auctioning off Wolverine, what he saw gave him a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. It made no sense…unless it also was part of the attack.

“We thought it was a glitch within the system, but we checked them remotely. It’s real,” the Reaver lieutenant continue.

“And yet, you don’t sound too thrilled about it,” said Romulus. “Can I assume there’s an _infuriating_ reason for that?”

“That uh…depends.”

“On what?” he barked, his anger overtaking his confusion.

“On whether you mind that all those funds are coming from the accounts of our guests,” he said, swallowing nervously. “You see, all those shadow accounts you had them set up beforehand…well, someone on our end just hacked them. Near as we can tell, there’s some rogue computer program ordering all these transfers. I don’t know what to make of it, but it looks…”

The Reaver lieutenant trailed off, biting his lip and taking another step back. He probably noticed Romulus squeezing the tablet so hard that the screen cracked. His rage mixed with a disturbing realization that undermined what little semblance of control he had left.

“It looks like I’m stealing directly from the pockets of Hydra, AIM, the Hand, the Humanity Coalition, the Kingpin, and every other organization that SHIELD despises…that this _entire_ auction was just a ploy to plunder their resources!” Romulus surmised as he crumbled up the tablet with his bare hands in a rage.

“Should we send the money back?” the lieutenant asked. “We can do it remotely and…”

Romulus silenced the hapless Reaver by letting out an angry roar before throwing the destroyed tablet on the floor, shattering it into even more pieces. His claws still drawn, he fumed as he turned back towards the unconscious Logan. Any chance he had at making his plan work had vanished. It left him with only one contingency.

“Don’t!” he said to the Reaver firmly. “It doesn’t matter now. As far as they’re concerned, I’m already a fraud who just tricked them out of a great deal of money. Even if we stopped the attack and captured those responsible, it wouldn’t make a difference. By now, they’ve already noticed and will attempt to retaliate.”

“So…what do we do?”

“ _Exactly_ what I say! That much has _not_ changed!” barked Romulus. “We will recover from this. There will be other plans…other chances. Unfortunately, those will come at a price.”

The imposing man went to work, using his claws to destroy the restraints on Logan’s special gurney. He also hit a large button on the side, which released the adamantium clamps that controlled those restraints. It effectively freed Logan, but only to a point.

Romulus despised the feeling of releasing control, especially after having worked so hard to guide Logan to this point. He was still very much a product of his plan…his world. That would not change. One way or another, Logan would serve him and his goals. That was the fate of everyone in his plan, but sometimes fate had to take a different path.

Still snarling at Logan’s form, he retrieved one last syringe full of synthetic pheromone that his technicians had injected earlier. Romulus had intended to use it as a demonstration, but to escape this lost plan, he needed something more direct.

“You’re still a useful pawn, Logan. That’s the only reason I haven’t killed you yet,” Romulus said to his unconscious form. “You will still serve me because that’s what you do. That is your purpose…you and your son.”

After removing the cap from the syringe, Romulus injected it right into Logan’s neck. He then emptied the contents into his system. Had the doctors still been present, they would’ve been running full-speed in the other direction. They knew as well as he did what kind of effect the pheromone had at such concentrations.

Almost immediately, Logan’s eyes shot open. Every muscle in his upper body contorted. Ever vein in his arms, neck, and chest bulged. He began growling and trembling, as though he’d been dumped in a vat of adrenaline.

“Do what you need to do, Logan,” Romulus said directly into the feral mutant’s ear. “Go into the other room. Follow those _instincts_ of yours. Serve your purpose.”

“Errr!” Logan growled, already on the brink of a berserker rage.

His limbs still trembling, Logan stammered forward, drawing his claws and snarling with a murderous rage. The Reaver lieutenant stumbled back, avoiding eye-contact with enraged Wolverine. Even hardened cybernetic mercenaries were capable of fear.

Romulus didn’t give him time to tremble, though. As soon as he gave the necessary command, he grabbed the lieutenant by the arm and pulled him up. He then made his way out of the staging area and into the secure halls.

“Send one final order to the Reavers squads guarding the front entrance,” Romulus said. “Divert all attention from the intruders and redirect them to the ballroom. Kill _everyone_ in that room. Do not let them escape.”

“Everyone?” he gulped nervously.

“Did I stutter?” barked Romulus, silencing the man as he walked faster. “They already believe I stole from them. I might as well go along with it. At the very least, it’ll make them think twice about infesting my plans with their decadence.”

The lieutenant didn’t question him. He just ran off down another wing to deliver the order. That was likely the last order he’d give today. His plan had fallen apart, but he had no intention of letting it defeat him. He would escape and live to craft a new plan. Those who dared undermine him had to pay a price.

* * *

**Pierce Robotics – Central Lobby**

Emma Frost had never been the most powerful fighter, but she prided herself on being the most cunning. She was more than happy to see Colossus, Rogue, Warpath, Wolverine, or Beast win a battle with raw strength. She took more satisfaction out of winning that same battle without breaking her perfectly-manicured nails.

“You pathetic cyber-punks are leaving me _very_ unsatisfied,” Emma said as she made her way through the heart of Pierce Robotics’ main building. “You’re supposed to be upgraded men. All I see are boys with overpriced toys.”

“Damn it! Will somebody shoot her already? Or at least shut her up?” barked an angry Reaver who tried to attack.

“I’d like to see you to try, but I don’t want to get my hopes up,” scoffed Emma.

Several heavily-armed Reavers attempted to form a line at a secure corridor, standing beside one another and aiming their weapons right at her, which happened to be built into their arms, shoulders, and chests. Emma just rolled her eyes. She knew what came next because it had played out one too many times since she entered the buildings.

First, she shifted into her diamond form. Then, right on cue, the Reavers opened fire, unleashing a torrent of bullets and energy blasts at her. Her diamond shell took the impact and deflected them with ease. It slowed her down as she advanced towards the northeast wing, which led from the central lobby to the ballroom. It didn’t stop her, though. At best, it was an inconvenience.

“Die, diamond bitch!” yelled one of the Reavers.

“Once again, Donald Pierce disappoints me,” Emma sighed. “His thugs might be the second most impotent part of his legacy.”

The Reavers barely heard her, firing their weapons wildly and trying to hold the line. She kept inching her way closer, waiting until their weapons ran out of ammunition or energy. It happened sooner than expected, making for predictably awkward moments as the cybernetic goons made a feeble effort to launch another attack.

“Reload! Reload!” one of the Reavers yelled.

“I’ve got a better idea,” said White Queen.

With minimal strain, Emma shifted out of her diamond form and placed a hand on her temple. She then hit the line of Reavers with a telepathic attack, knocking them out in a way that would lead to a painful headache in a few hours. By then, this messy ordeal should be over and she might have a chance to salvage her Sunday.

“All that hardware, but your minds are so soft,” Emma said. “You placed too much faith in this building’s defenses…which I sense are failing in more ways than usual.”

As Emma stood before the unconscious Reavers, she paused to do a quick telepathic scan. The entire building’s psychic defenses were down, but there was still plenty of mental static. Emma had been sifting through it since Jean dropped her off at the entrance. Most of it involved random thoughts from Reavers, workers, and a few other unfamiliar minds. Others were less mundane. Once her attacks began, though, the chaos quickly escalated…albeit in her favor.

The Reavers had been caught by surprise. Everything that Jean planned had worked beyond her expectations, much to Emma’s chagrin. She barged through the front door just as the Reavers were scrambling about, wondering why they were getting so many security alerts. When she started attacking minds, they almost looked scared, most likely assuming their minds were protected.

At first, there was some pretty heavy resistance in the form of gunfire and energy weapons. Emma evaded those, only working up a mild sweat in the process. Once they began succumbing to psychic attacks, most scattered to other parts of the building. She even heard some yelling about some sort of network breach, another sign that the other part of Jean’s plan had worked.

It was going almost _too_ smoothly. Historically, that was a bad sign for the X-men. It was often a prelude to something going horribly wrong, often taking the form of a Sentinel attack or some elaborate trap.

“Of course Jean would stick me with one of the most _mundane_ roles of her plan,” the White Queen sighed. “She must be punishing me for giving Scott a better blowjob at our last orgy.”

She intended to extract multiple favors from Jean when all was said and done, some of which involved the new bondage gear that she’d just bought the previous week. She might as well finish her part so she could get around to her own devious plan.

At this point, the hardest part of her mission had passed. Based on her telepathic scans, she’d subdued or knocked out the bulk of the Reavers front line forces. There were still plenty of units scattered throughout the building, but most of them were either fleeing or heading away from her. That made the last step in the mission, which involved meeting up with Mary Jane and covering their tracks, fairly routine.

As Emma stepped over the unconscious Reavers, though, she received a telepathic message from Jean. It must have been urgent because it stopped her cold in her tracks.

 _‘Emma! Please tell me you’re near the ballroom!’_ Jean exclaimed.

 _‘Ow! Turn down the psychic volume, Jean.’_ Emma responded, clenching her temples. _‘I’m here and just a light stroll away from my destination.’_

_‘You’ll have to pick up the pace. I’ve encountered some…complications.’_

_‘Lucky you. How bad is it and how many spa trips are you going to owe me before tomorrow?’_

_‘It’s not as bad as it could be, but it has the potential to get MUCH worse. That’s why we’ll need to tweak the plan a bit.’_

Emma let out a light groan. On one hand, the mission was no longer mundane. On the other, there was a distinct undertone to Jean’s psychic message that hinted this would not be a minor inconvenience. Whatever complications she had encountered must have been major and if it affected Jean that much, then it was bound to affect her even more.

 _‘I’m kind of behind schedule…a lot,’_ Jean continued.

 _‘How the hell did THAT happen?’_ asked Emma.

_‘It’s a long story…one I really can’t tell without it being a distraction. All you need to know is I’m back on track and I’ve zeroed in on who’s behind this. I’ve already gotten some extra help from that favor I called in so I’m going after him!’_

_‘Which, I suppose, means you need me to get Logan,’_ Emma surmised. _‘That’s not much of a tweak.’_

_‘That’s where the complication comes in. You see, I think I found out what happened to him. And if I’m right, Mary Jane and all those nasty people in the ballroom are about to find out too. You need to get there and knock everyone out before that happens!’_

_‘I thought we were expecting those miscreants to take care of themselves. After what we pulled with their bank accounts, they’re sure to kill each other before Mary Jane gets compromised.’_

_‘I’m afraid we can’t be that patient,’_ Jean replied, _‘neither will they, if what I’m sensing is accurate. Someone just told the Reavers to turn on them. It’s going to get ugly real fast and Mary Jane will get caught in the crossfire if you don’t hurry. So get moving and you can hate my guts for it later!’_

The subtext wasn’t too promising. Suddenly, Emma missed being bored by Jean’s plan. With the psychic link closed, she began scanning ahead. Sure enough, Jean was right. Someone had given the Reavers a new set of orders. They were getting desperate, turning on their would-be clients in the ballroom and attempting to cover their tracks.

It was the act of someone who knew he’d been outwitted. It was also a sign that those complications Jean mentioned were far from over.

“This is going to frustrated me in ways no day spa can mend,” said Emma. “More than a few people are going to owe me big time after this.”

* * *

**Pierce Robotics – Main Ballroom**

_‘Jean…Emma…you owe me big time after this.’_

That thought had been repeating in Mary Jane Watson’s mind for the past several minutes now. It couldn’t have been much longer than that because everything had gone to hell pretty quickly. She’d been told to expect it. She’d even been told to brace for it. However, it still caught her off-guard and required more cunning than usual.

“That lying, cheating bastard! He’s turned on us!” yelled a Kingpin enforcer, who’d taken cover behind the bar.

“You don’t know the half of it,” said someone from the Serpent Society who’d done the same. “Did you also get a text from your bank?”

“I got several…and some ugly messages from my superiors,” said someone from the Humanity Coalition. “Whoever called us here just fucked us out of our money!”

“ _Nobody_ steals from the Hand!” yelled an enraged assassin from the Hand as he attacked one of the Reavers.

“Shut up!” yelled a Reaver trying to fight back. “This is _not_ what you think it is, but we have our-AAGH!”

That was all the Reaver heavy enforcer got out before an AIM agent snuck up from behind, hacked his life support system, and shorted it out. Just a few moments ago, that same Reaver had been blaring music throughout the room, giving Mary Jane and some other devious women something to dance to. That spectacle, as well as the cheering that went with it, stopped the moment the Reavers began shooting everyone in the room.

Mary Jane, having expected a nasty turn like this, managed to duck away behind a podium on the staging area. The other two women she’d been dancing with did the same. The woman from the Hand was still naked and the woman from Hydra was down to her panties. However, both looked prepared for all-out war.

“Can you fucking believe this?!” yelled the woman from Hydra. “He turned on us. That _reputable_ broker…just brought us here to slaughter while he took our money!”

“The Hand…does not take kindly to treachery!” barked the woman from the Hand.

“Yeah…my boss is going to be _pissed_!” said Mary Jane, pretending to share their outrage. “And to think…I showed them my tits for free!”

“Their crimes will be punished! Hydra will see to that!” said the woman form Hydra.

Mary Jane stayed low as a couple of Reavers shot at them with a barrage of energy blasts, destroying much of the podium. The woman from Hydra did the same while signaling other Hydra agents to act. She almost seemed protective of Mary Jane. Joining her in a sexy show sometimes had that effect on people.

It didn’t change the fact that they were outgunned _and_ underdressed. The Reaver forces were converging quickly around the ballroom, surrounding and outnumbering everyone in the room. Some managed to escape while others fought back, taking out multiple Reavers in the process. Most either fled or were cut down in the crossfire. Near as Mary Jane could tell, the representatives from the Kingpin, the Humanity Coalition, and AIM had been wiped out. If anyone escaped, they were long gone.

Mary Jane tried to look for an escape route as well, but the main stage provided few options. She and the two women she’d been dancing with maintained their position. For the moment, her best bet was to wait for Emma and Jean to show up. However, the woman from the Hand didn’t seem inclined for such patience.

“I will not hide a moment longer!” the woman from the Hand shouted. “The honor of the Hand must be preserved!”

“Wait!” Mary Jane said, grabbing her arm. “You’re not exactly…equipped.”

“I do not care! I am as deadly without clothes as I am with armor!” she claimed. “I only regret that I did not show you the full _breadth_ of my skills.”

She almost sounded apologetic. She even sounded a little seductive. Mary Jane barely got a chance to smile back before she leapt up from behind the podium – still fully naked and armed with nothing other than her skills – and attacked the Reavers that had been shooting at them.

Much to Mary Jane’s surprise/horror, the woman managed to take down three of the five Reavers that had been shooting at them without a scratch. Her agility, acrobatics, and strikes were almost on par with Spider-Man. She managed to hit each Reaver right in the parts of their bodies that were still flesh, knocking out two while shoving one into the line of fire with the others, ending him on the spot.

“For the honor…of the Hand!” she shouted as more gunfire rang out.

It was bold, bloody, and even a little sexy. Unfortunately, other Reavers nearby noticed a naked woman fighting them. Having finished off an unruly enforcer from the Serpent Society, they surrounded the woman and overwhelmed her. She continued fighting back, but eventually took a shot to the back that ended her attack.

“Aagh!” she cried out.

“God, damn it!” Mary Jane cursed.

“Don’t worry. She’s from the Hand,” said the woman from Hydra. “Death is an inconvenience to them.”

“I know, but still…” she said anxiously.

Mary Jane peaked out from the podium, only to attract another barrage of gunfire from the Reavers. She took cover again next to the woman from Hydra, who signaled her remaining agents to come to her aid. There weren’t many left and time was running out. Mary Jane starting to get nervous.

“Stay close,” the woman from Hydra said. “Hydra is just as resilient. Come with me and I’ll make sure we…”

Before the woman could finish, she froze in place. At that same moment, others throughout the room – those still alive and present, at least – stopped as well. The Reavers ceased their attack. The remaining agents of Hydra, the Hand, the Serpent Society, and whoever else had survived stopped as well. The sudden silence after so much commission was almost eerie, but still a welcome change.

Mary Jane, unaffected by what had just happened, emerged from behind the podium to take in the sight before her. Everyone in the room had become living statues. Were it not for the dust, smoke, and smell of burnt furniture, Mary Jane would’ve swore that time had just stopped. Having not forgotten the latter parts of Jean’s plan, she wasn’t too surprised. That didn’t make it any less jarring.

“Uh…I hope this is what I think it is,” Mary Jane said out loud.

_‘Relax, darling. The cavalry is here.’_

That familiar voice in her head came as a relief. Breaking the ominous silence, Emma Frost entered through the same door Mary Jane had gone through earlier. The White Queen looked more short of breath than usual as she rushed towards the stage, her hand still on her temple.

“Sorry for the delay, darling,” said Emma. “Had to make sure the coast was clear.”

“Did you have to cut it _that_ close?” said Mary Jane with a mix of anger and relief.

“Trust me, this was _much_ closer than I wanted,” she said.

There was strain and urgency in her voice, which generated a new host of concerns for Mary Jane. For the moment, though, she just caught her breath while Emma went to work.

Once in the center of the room, Emma closed her eyes and concentrated. Then, with a labored grunt, she unleashed a powerful telekinetic wave throughout the room. Almost instantly, everyone – including the Reavers, the woman from Hydra that had been next to her, and anyone else who had survived – collapsed into unconsciousness.

Emma seemed to put some extra force behind it, ensuring those effected would be out for a good long while. The strain showed and she fell to her knees, still clenching her temples. Mary Jane, still topless and without any shoes, ran to her fellow queen’s aid.

“Whoa! Easy there, Emma,” said Mary Jane, catching her before she collapsed. “I’m guessing you ran into some pretty heavy resistance.”

“It’s nothing I couldn’t handle,” said Emma, shaking off the assistance. “I had to be a little blunt, though. Every mind here just got hit with the psychic equivalent of a sledge-hammer. I also had to throw in a little tweaking to their memories. They’ll either forget you, not recognize you, or think someone killed you…which is surprisingly tricky when they’ve seen your tits.”

“Sorry about that,” said the Red Queen with a half-grin. “You guys did tell me to keep them distracted.”

“Well, _that_ part of the plan worked. The rest…namely the parts we thought would be the least cumbersome…may not work as well.”

“What do you mean?” asked Mary Jane anxiously.

Before Emma could answer, an ominous, yet familiar roar echoed from behind the main stage. One of the secure doors that the Reavers had been guarding extra closely burst open, the locking mechanism torn off by an adamantium claw. From that darkened pathway, a very feral and very naked Logan emerged.

“Logan? You escaped!” said Mary Jane, who shot up to greet him.

“Wait!” Emma said, grabbing her wrist to stop her. “Don’t get any closer. Logan is…not of sound mind, at the moment. And not just because he ran out of clean pants.”

Mary Jane stayed back, quickly picking up on what Emma was referring to. He didn’t carry himself like the same gruff man she knew from his many high bar tabs at the Hellfire Club. He looked more primal, like a hostile predator who thought it was under attack. There was no humanity or personality in his eyes. There was just a very angry, very dangerous man looking for something to fight.

“Errrr!” he growled as he restlessly scanned the room.

As soon as his gaze narrowed on her and Emma, he took an aggressive stands and drew his claws. He then leapt off the stage and began closing in on them, growling and snarling with murderous intent. Mary Jane had encountered her share of hostile men, even when they were naked. However, she’d never encountered anything like _this_.

“Uh…Logan?” Mary Jane said nervously. “It’s me…Mary Jane…the Red Queen. You’ve seen my tits. You’ve fucked my ass. Remember?”

“He remembers just fine,” Emma groaned. “He just not feeling very _nostalgic_ …among many other things.”

“I’m still confused here,” said the Red Queen, “and a little _worried_ .”

“They did something to him. Jean warned me about it. I didn’t think it was this bad!”

That was not very encouraging. Mary Jane had only a cursory knowledge of Wolverine’s history. She knew he had been the subject of some pretty brutal experience. She also knew he’d been tortured and manipulated into being a meat puppet before. He usually found a way to break free. The only ones who faced his violent wrath were the people who tried to control him. It was a lousy time for him to buck that trend.

Mary Jane, still unequipped and under-dressed for a fight, took a step back with Emma. The White Queen, now back on her feet, stood in front of her and attempted another psychic attack. Despite her drained state, she seemed to put in plenty of force. However, it had no effect.

“Damn it, Logan!” Emma said in frustration. “You’ve got a topless redhead and a blond telepath in front of you. “How is your mind be _this_ fragmented?”

“Maybe you should’ve brought Psylocke along,” commented Mary Jane. “I hear he loves Japanese women too.”

“Now is _not_ the time for hindsight!” said the White Queen. “I can’t get through to him! It’s like someone burned down every meaningful connection in his brain!”

The feral man inched closer, looking ready to pounce any second. Mary Jane kept falling back with Emma, right up until they reached the mini-bar at the back of the room. The Red Queen gulped nervously while Emma kept trying to reach his mind. It didn’t seem to work. Logan kept getting closer, that murderous glint in his eye never fading.

Then, as imposing form grew disturbingly close, they each received a telepathic message from Jean. Like Emma, she cut her timing painfully close.

 _‘Emma…Mary Jane…PLEASE tell me you’re still in one piece,’_ the Black Queen said.

 _‘Nice to hear from you too, Jean,’_ said Mary Jane. _‘We’re fine, but that might change in the next 30 seconds.’_

 _‘That better mean you’re close and you know how to shut down Logan’s murder-mode,’_ said Emma.

_‘I’m afraid I’m not. I’m still behind and going after the source of this mess, but that’s not why I called.’_

_‘Then think fast because the clock’s ticking!’_ urged Mary Jane.

_‘You have more time than you think. What they did to Logan…it’s not the same as Weapon X. They’ve pumped him with some sort of pheromone that put him in a state of pure instinct. His thoughts and memories are there, but muted. To get through to him, you have to confront his instincts.’_

_‘As in the same instincts he’s about to use to brutally stab us?’_ said Emma.

_‘That’s one set of instincts…the survival kind. It’s the other instinct you have to appeal to.’_

_‘The other one?’_ the White Queen repeated.

_‘You know which one I’m talking about, Emma.’_

Mary Jane quickly connected the dots as well. She might not have been an expert on mutants or living weapons, but she knew a thing or two about instincts, namely those that involved the less violent parts of survival. If Logan was now a creature of instinct, it meant they had to resort to similar tactics.

She turned towards Emma Frost, who picked up on the implications as well. They had no chance at matching Logan’s survival instincts. When it came to the other instinct Jean mentioned, she and Emma might actually have the advantage.

“Emma, you might not be in the mood for this, but…” began Mary Jane, only to have her fellow queen silence her with a finger to the lips.

“No time for a show, darling,” she said. “Shut up and kiss me!”

In what might have been the most urgent sex show in history, Emma threw her arms around Mary Jane, pulled her into a tight embraced, and crashed her lips onto hers in a messy, yet erotic kiss. The Red Queen barely had time to react, but having already put on a show earlier, she eagerly went along with it. They didn’t have time to do something elaborate or kinky. They just had to appeal to the simplest, most basic aspects of a man.

The kiss was sloppy and uncoordinated. Emma practically shoved her tongue into Mary Jane’s mouth, twirling it with hers while reaching up her skirt to blatantly show Logan her ass. The fact she still had her thong on, having never gotten a chance to take it off, seemed to help. Mary Jane returned the fervor, kissing back and slapping Emma’s butt over her skin-tight white pants. Basic or not, it seemed to have an impact on the instinct-driven Logan.

“Hrrr!” he growled, his aggressive demeanor shifting.

His claws were still drawn. He still had that predatory glint in his eye, but that killer instinct now clashed with another, equally powerful instinct. He kept advancing, though, looking like he could still pounce. Sensing this, Mary Jane stepped up her efforts.

 _‘You’re overdressed, Emma,_ ’ she said to her with her thoughts, their lips still occupied. _‘I know you’re not used to hearing that, but we need to do something about it.’_

_‘Agreed! I don’t think we have room to be subtle here.’_

Skipping a couple of steps in their sexy display, Mary Jane reached down to the front of Emma’s pants and undid them. She then quickly pulled them down her thighs, revealing her revealing white panties to the approaching Logan. It wasn’t the sexiest pair of underwear Emma had in her wardrobe by a long shot, but it added to the erotic display, which further heightened the feral man’s instincts.

While Emma skillfully shook her butt, showing it off to Logan while Mary Jane slid her pants down to her ankles, she also undid her cape so she could remove the top part of her uniform. She hadn’t been wearing a bra underneath – which was fairly typical for Emma, calling it a tactical distraction – so as soon as her top was off, her surgically-enhanced breasts were on full display. Mary Jane, already topless herself, took full advantage of that by kissing Emma on the lips again and mashing her breasts against hers.

“Hnn…” said Logan upon seeing such an erotic display, his snarls shifting to intrigue.

Now coordinating their erotic efforts, Mary Jane and Emma kissed more fervently, twirling their tongues and letting out erotic groans to further entice the feral man before them. They wildly pawed one another with Emma reaching up Mary Jane’s skirt, giving her butt a few sensual swats as well. Mary Jane returned the favor by slipping a hand into Emma’s panties and fondling her pussy. All the while, they kept rubbing their breasts together.

It still wasn’t the most sensual display, being clumsy and rushed. Despite that, it seemed to do the trick. Logan finally stopped, now standing less than 10 feet away from where they stood. His claws were still drawn, but his expression began changing. He looked less like an enraged animal and more like one that had just discovered a viable mating opportunity. It also showed in the way his cock began stiffening.

 _‘It’s working, Emma!’_ Mary Jane told her telepathically, noticing Logan’s reaction out of the corner of her eye.

 _‘Don’t let up, darling,’_ Emma warned her. _‘He’s still very…focused.’_

_‘Guess we’ll have to ditch the panties.’_

_‘Even our tits have limits, I suppose.’_

Their lips never parting, Emma reached behind Mary Jane’s waist and unzipped her skirt, allowing it to fall to the floor. They then took turns sensually removing each other’s panties. Mary Jane went first, giving Emma room to wiggle her hips to further draw Logan’s gaze. Emma went next, sliding her thong down her thighs. The Red Queen even made it a point to bend over slightly, giving Logan a perfect view of her ass and her pussy.

That must have escalated more instincts because Logan’s stance shifted once more. Instead of a predatory poise, he took a step closer, his gaze narrowing on her and Emma’s feminine features. Sensing that gaze, she and her fellow queen turned around and flashed him a seductive glance. They remained close, still rubbing their tits together and giving him an unobstructed view of their pussies.

His dick continued to stiffen. The look on Logan’s face shifted from one of intrigue to one of arousal. It would’ve been reassuring if his claws weren’t still drawn, hinting that his killer instinct was still clashing with his mating instinct.

 _‘He’s settling down…relatively speaking. I can sense it,’_ said Emma.

 _‘He still looks…conflicted,’_ Mary Jane replied.

 _‘Not for much longer,’_ she said confidently. _‘Think extra sexy thoughts, Mary Jane. Get yourself nice and wet. Logan once said he could smell a horny woman from a mile away. Overwhelm his nose and his dick will do the rest.’_

It was as logical a plan as any. A sexy visual display wasn’t going to be enough. To temper Logan’s instincts, they needed to appeal to every one of his senses.

Mary Jane went to work, recalling her favorite gangbangs and her most recent romantic night with Peter. She closed her eyes and continued kissing Emma. She eagerly fondled her naked body, focusing more on stimulating her pussy. The White Queen did the same, slipping a hand between her thighs and plunging her fingers into her folds. She wasn’t coy or gentle either. She went right for her most sensitive areas.

“Ooh Emma!” the Red Queen squealed. “You’re making me…so wet.”

“Just returning the favor, darling,” Emma purred.

Following her example, Mary Jane plunged her fingers deeper into Emma’s pussy. She also used her thumb to stimulate her clit, something she knew the White Queen enjoyed. Together, they channeled their early Hellfire Club days, putting on the kind of sexy display that usually cost wealthy patrons a small mortgage just to witness.

Mary Jane wasn’t usually aroused by other women, but she and Emma knew each other’s bodies very well. They knew how to get each other wet, aroused, and ready for sex. That knowledge proved quite effective. The Red Queen’s pussy soon became fully engorged, which was no easy task, given their predicament. If the feminine juices dripping down Emma’s inner thighs were any indication, she was just as aroused.

That arousal meant nothing, though, if it didn’t have the right impact on Logan. While still fingering Emma’s pussy and making out with her in the most erotic manner possible, Mary Jane kept an eye on Logan. He still looked conflicted, torn between attacking them and fucking them. Only one of those instincts ensured their survival. It still might end up getting messy, but in a way she and Emma could handle.

As their pussies got wetter and the heat from their bodies grew stronger, she noticed Logan sniffing the air. Mary Jane could only hope that she and Emma were sending strong enough scents with their erotic display. If his sense of smell was as strong as he’d claimed, then their message should be _abundantly_ clear.

“Hot…wet…sex,” Logan mumbled incoherently.

“That’s right, Logan,” said Emma, giving her butt a light swat. “We know what you want.”

“Come here and get it,” said Mary Jane, giving her butt a similar slap. “Give us some that animal lust!”

That seemed to send his instincts into overdrive. Logan finally retracted his claws. A telling grin formed on his face, just as his penis became fully erect. Between the scent of two horny women and their seductive words, Logan’s regular lust won out over his bloodlust. That came as a relief. She and Emma wouldn’t have to face Logan in a full berserker rage.

Then, Mary Jane remembered how _energetic_ Logan got when his feral side mixed with his horny side. At that moment, she realized that the mission was far from over.

“Ooh boy, Emma,” said the Red Queen. “What did we just get ourselves into.”

“Still better than the alternative…potentially _much_ better,” said Emma, sounding a bit less daunted.

“Guess that’s going to depend,” she said.

Like an animal in heat, Logan pounced on her and Emma. They barely had any time to brace themselves, but they were already past the point of no return. Logan, in his hyper-instinctive, exceedingly lustful state, was going to fuck her and Emma as only a feral man with a robust healing factor could.

Almost immediately, she and Emma found themselves pinned to the floor just in front of the mini-bar. Mary Jane ended up on her back while Emma was on top of her, their breasts pressed together and their pussies perfectly aligned. Logan was already hovering over them, his lustful gaze narrowed on their moist folds. He was practically drooling, like a hungry animal about to gorge on its favorite meal.

“Fuck,” he growled, his dick throbbing in anticipation.

With the same agility he usually reserved for a blood-soaked battle, he maneuvered into position, getting behind her and Emma so that his dick was aligned with their pussies. He skipped the foreplay and teasing, grabbing Emma by the waist and thrusting his hips forward. Mary Jane couldn’t even tell who he was trying to fuck, but is cock ended up inside Emma’s pussy. As soon as his flesh entered hers, he began rocking their naked bodies with his primal lust.

“Oohhh! Fuck indeed!” Emma moaned.

“Mmm tight…wet,” seethed Logan as he fucked her.

He quickly built up a fervent rhythm, working his hips hard and fast. His dick pumped rapidly inside Emma’s depths, his pelvis slapping against her ass. With each thrust, the White Queen’s body jerked forward. In the process, the outer folds of her pussy rubbed up against Mary Jane’s swollen clit, allowing her to share in the sensations as well.

It kept her wet. It also gave her a view of Emma’s face as she reacted to the rough fucking. She probably hadn’t been planning to have rough sex today, but she adapted quickly. Emma had always been good at getting in the mood on the spot. It was part of what made her a great stripper back in the day. However, even she seemed to struggle keeping up with a very feral and very horny Logan.

“Oh…oohhh fuck!” gasped Emma. “So…so hard! So…so fast!”

“Hang in there, Emma,” encouraged Mary Jane. “He’s all instinct. That means we need to use ours too.”

In an effort to make the process easier, the Red Queen pressed her tits up against Emma’s a little harder so that their nipples stimulated one another. She also held onto the White Queen’s shoulders and kissed down her neck, something she knew Emma loved having done to her during sex. Scott once claimed it was her greatest weakness. While Emma denied that vehemently, the results said otherwise.

Emma’s gasps and moans escalated as Logan kept fucking her hard, grunting and growling as he hammered his cock into her pussy. He didn’t make much effort to drag it out or make it intimate. He had the look of a man with just one goal in mind. He was going to fuck until he climaxed, plain and simple.

“That’s it, Logan. Let it out! We know you want it!” Mary Jane told him.

She had no idea whether he heard her. It didn’t seem to change the pace of his sex, but the result was the same. After fucking Emma’s pussy hard and fast, he achieved the release he instinctively sought, letting out a primal howl that echoed throughout the room.

“Errrrrahhhhhh!” Logan cried out.

“Ohhh he’s coming! I…I feel it,” Emma moaned.

He finally ceased his hard thrusting for a moment, but not before driving his member as deep into Emma’s pussy as he could. Mary Jane watched as Logan threw his head back, squeezed Emma’s waist, and shuddered under the release of pleasure. It must have been intense because she felt some of the cum drip out from Emma’s pussy onto hers.

It finally gave Emma a reprieve, allowing her to catch her breath and take in the feeling. She even offered Mary Jane a grateful smile. Her efforts had not gone unnoticed.

“Thanks, darling. You…sustained the mood,” she said.

“Any time,” Mary Jane said, smiling back.

“Not a wise choice of words,” Emma teased, “because that time is already here.”

The Red Queen quickly surmised what she meant. After what seemed too short a span for a man to fully enjoy his orgasm, Logan withdrew his cock from Emma’s pussy. Still dripping with a mix of his cum and her juices, it was still rock hard. Even though Logan’s healing factor was famously robust, even he usually had to catch his breath after blowing his load once. That didn’t happen this time. He still looked hungry for sex.

“More!” Logan growled.

“Ooh boy,” said Mary Jane, bracing herself for the next round.

She got in only a few quick breaths before Logan guided his still-erect dick towards her pussy and thrust his hips forward again, driving it into her depths. Between the lingering sexual fluids and her own arousal, it entered her folds smoothly. Like with Emma, though, Logan did not waste time building to a heated rhythm. As soon as his cock was inside her folds, he began fucking her with the same vigor he did with Emma.

“Oh fuck! Ohhh fuck!” the Red Queen exclaimed.

“Easy darling,” said Emma, offering the same intimate gestures to supplement the feeling. “He likes it rough. Good thing we’re pros. We’re better than most at taking it.”

If that was meant to be encouraging, it only worked to a point. Mary Jane had plenty of experience with rough sex, even before she worked as a prostitute. There was a time for slow, passionate lovemaking and there was a time for a good, hard fuck. Both could be plenty satisfying, but she’d never encountered a man as instinctive and driving as Logan.

Her body and her world shook with every thrust, his dick rapidly slithering within the tight folds of her pussy. Mary Jane clung to Emma, holding onto her shoulders and holding her legs apart, bending her knees back extra far so that the penetration remained smooth and thorough. It wasn’t as strenuous as it could’ve been, had she not gotten herself aroused. It still required the Red Queen to close her eyes and take a lustful pounding from this feral man.

As she took in the feeling of such hard fucking, the blend of pleasure and pain shifting with every second, Emma Frost followed the same example she’d done earlier. She kept rubbing her tits against hers while also skillfully grinding her pelvis against hers so that her clit rubbed up against her folds. That extra bit of stimulation tilted the balance in favor of pleasure.

“Ohhh yeah!” Mary Jane moaned. “Fuck me, Logan! Fuck me hard!”

“Errrr yes!” the feral mutant seethed.

She felt him grab onto her thighs, her knees bending over his hands as he pushed her legs apart even wider. Logan’s fervent thrusting became more desperate, as though his actions were more a product of need than desire. His expression remained awash with lust and pleasure, but Mary Jane also noticed a growing conflict as well.

“It’s working, darling. I can sense it,” Emma told her. “Whatever they did to him, his instincts are in overdrive. I cannot reach his mind. The only way to get through the effects is to _exhaust_ those instincts.”

Mary Jane barely heard that, but she understood the implications. At the very least, it established a clear plan. It wasn’t a very elaborate plan. They would just fuck Logan until his instincts were spent and his mind was vulnerable. The Red Queen had no idea how much sex that would require, but it was sure to test her and Emma’s decadent abilities.

Logan set the bar pretty high too because Mary Jane sensed him nearing another climax. He thrusts became shorter, faster, and more focused. His grip on her thighs tightened and his cock throbbed harder within her inner folds. His ability to come so soon after his first orgasm was a testament to his healing factor and his instincts. Mary Jane might have been impressed if she weren’t so short of breath.

“Errr…close!” the feral mutant barked.

The Red Queen shifted her legs and prepared to take another load into her pussy. Then, in an unexpected shift, Logan pulled out from her pussy, grabbed her and Emma by their necks, and pulled them up so that they were in an upright position with his dick pointed right at their faces. They barely had time to prepare, Logan grabbed the base of his member and aimed it at them just in time for his release.

“Errraahhhhhh!” he roared again as he achieved orgasm.

As his euphoric howls filled the ballroom, a thick stream of seminal fluid shot out from his dick and splattered onto Mary Jane’s face. Some of it got on Emma too, but most of it hit her, landing right around her eyes, nose, and cheek. She managed to open her mouth and get some of it, but it still got pretty messy.

“That’s…a hell of an instinct,” Mary Jane said breathlessly.

“Let’s face it. A face covered in cum is better than a gut full of adamantium,” Emma pointed out.

“Can’t argue with that,” said the Red Queen with a bemused grin.

As Logan stroked his cock, expending every last drop of seminal fluid, Emma helped Mary Jane wipe the cum from her eyes and face. She even licked some of it up while casting Logan a seductive glance, maintaining both the mood and his lustful instincts. Just as before, though, his healing factor and the intensity of those instincts gave her and Emma little time to recover.

“Suck!” Logan said with a deep growl.

He didn’t wait for them to accept. He just shoved his still-hardened cock between their faces. Their vast sexual experience, both as prostitutes and as queens, took over. Mary Jane instinctively opened her mouth and licked along the still-dripping shaft. Emma ended up taking half of his cock into her mouth and began sucking it. Logan’s hyperactive instincts took it from there.

Letting out more hungry grunts, he grabbed her and Emma by the neck again, holding their faces close to his cock. He then began face-fucking them, alternating between her and Emma. He wasn’t as rough as he’d been when fucking their pussies, indicating that they had put a dent in his desires. They still had a long way to go, though. Despite dripping with cum and juices from both their pussies, the feral mutant craved more.

“Yeah…suck!” Logan grunted.

“Mmf! He’s still…so hard,” said Mary Jane after deep-throating him.

“Healing…and instinct,” said Emma after sucking him extra hard. “It’s a _potent_ combination.”

That was an understatement, one that underscored how much they had to push their oral sex skills. Each time Logan shoved his cock into her mouth, he worked it extra fast, testing her gag reflex and forcing her to suck extra hard. Each time he pulled out to face-fuck Emma, she gasped to catch her breath. It rarely seemed like enough before he started face-fucking her again.

Her efforts, along with Emma’s, kept feeding Logan’s instinctive lusts. It also seemed to push him as well. Mary Jane noticed a heavy sweat forming on his body, one that wasn’t just the byproduct of rough sex. She could see his face contorting and shifting more, as though there was an inner struggle going on in addition to the instinct. Logan was fighting something, but it wasn’t them.

As that inner conflict escalated, he eventually pulled his dick back from her and Emma’s face. Then, with his hands still on their necks, he pushed them back down to the floor so that they were on their hands and knees. Mary Jane exchanged glances with her fellow queen, still short of breath, but fully aware of what came next.

“Is he…wearing down yet?” Mary Jane asked. “Even my pussy has limits.”

“He’s…getting there,” said Emma. “We just need to hold out…a little longer.”

“How _much_ longer?” she asked.

“I…don’t know.”

That wasn’t very encouraging. For all she knew, Logan would fuck them for hours before he wore himself out. He was the same guy who once fucked six Hellfire Club strippers the span of an hour and after two bottles of whiskey, no less. There was no telling how much more hard fucking they would have to give him to burn out whatever had been done to him.

Mary Jane could tell Emma was still hard at work with her telepathy, trying to reach Logan’s mind. He made it even more challenging by grabbing her by positioning himself behind her, grabbing her by the hips with one hand, and thrusting his rigid cock into her ass in a single thrust.

“Oohhh fuck! My…my ass!” Emma gasped.

“So…tight!” Logan growled.

The White Queen winced at the sudden penetration. While Emma had more experience with anal sex than most, it was still strenuous, getting fucked in the ass. Once his cock was in her tight depths, he began working his hips again, fucking her with the same rapid, face-paced fervor as before.

“Emma, are you…” began Mary Jane, concerned for her fellow queen.

“It’s…okay!” she grunted, her face contorting to the strain. “This…might help! It might…speed things up! Oohhh fuck!”

Mary Jane couldn’t tell if Emma had just hurt herself or had an orgasm. She sounded serious, though. Looking back towards Logan, she saw the desperation in his face grow. That might have indicated that he knew what he was doing…that he was actively fighting the effect of what had been done to him. It was encouraging, but still plenty strenuous.

Whatever Logan’s plan, Mary Jane remained part of it. As he fucked Emma’s ass, he used his other hand to reach between Mary Jane’s thighs and finger her pussy. He also used his thumb to finger her ass, most likely to prepare her for her own round of anal. The Red Queen already began bracing herself. She loved anal as much as the next self-professed whore, but she knew her limits and they were sure to be tested.

That test came sooner than she thought because after plenty of hard humping, Logan looked ready to climax again. Between the oral sex he got from both of them and the tightness of Emma’s ass, he was back to the brink once more and still showed a hunger for more sex.

“Close! So…close!” Logan exclaimed.

When the climax struck again, the feral mutant threw his head back and let out another orgasmic howl. Emma moaned as well, her nails raking on the hard floor as his cock throbbed inside her ass, releasing yet another load. Mary Jane couldn’t imagine he had much left after his previous peaks, but those instincts and that healing factor of his were changing her understanding of the male libido.

She cast Emma a reassuring glance as Logan withdrew his cock and guided it towards hers, which he’d gotten more ready thanks to his fingering. Emma remained on her hands and knees, gasping for breath and struggling to regain focus. Mary Jane grasped her hand, letting her know that she’d have some time and she’d better make good use of it.

“Guess it’s my turn now,” said Mary Jane, already breathing deep.

“Yeah…good luck,” said Emma.

Still holding onto her fellow queen’s hand, Mary Jane parted her thighs and elevated her hips, giving Logan better access to her ass. He took full advantage of it, grabbing her by the waist and driving his cock into her depths.

“Oohhh! Lucky…me!” Mary Jane moaned.

The sharp, stinging penetration into her ass wasn’t too bad. Unlike Emma, she’d had time to prepare. That allowed her to relax her body, taking in the full length of Logan’s cock and giving him the room he needed to fuck her. The pain/pleasure balance continued shifting with each thrust, sending erratic sensations coursing through her body.

Mary Jane endured it, though, gasping heavily and arching her body each time Logan pumped his cock into her ass. Still looking over at Emma, she could tell she was hard at work. Despite being disheveled and sweaty, she hadn’t lost sight of the mission.

“Hang in there, darling,” Emma told her. “It’s working. Just take it for a little while longer…just long enough for me to knock him out.”

“Do…what you gotta do…Emma,” Mary Jane panted. “Just…do it soon!”

Logan’s lustful howls kept echoing through the ballroom. They were getting more erratic and strained, which led to more feral fucking. Mary Jane continued taking it, her body and her fondness of anal sex making it easier. However, she could already feel some fatigue setting in. She kept pushing herself, though, as only the Red Queen and Spider-Man’s lover could.

_‘Sexually exhaust a horny man-beast with a healing factor and a fondness for redheads? It almost sounds easy…if not fun. I’m still going to need to use that training Peter gave me…just not in the way I’d thought.’_

* * *

**Pierce Robotics Research Lab – Underground Parking Garage**

When it came to well-laid, tightly-controlled plans, the ultimate obstacle rarely had much to do with rebellious pawns or unforeseen complications. More often than not, it was the lack of patience and discipline on the part of the planner that often derailed the plan. Romulus, given his age and experience, liked to believe he had plenty of both. However, the results of his latest plan had seriously tested those tenants.

_‘All that time, effort, and subversion…undone by idealistic peons. I go through the trouble of taking the Reavers from Donald Pierce, containing Wolverine, and manipulating the whims the aid of his bastard son…only to see it fall apart due to some unforeseen cunning. It is a major setback, but hardly a defeat. It only means that I’ll have to adapt and strengthen my plans moving forward.’_

Romulus was already plotting multiple recourses in his mind, all of which involved making Logan and his friends suffer even more. He looked forward to making them regret standing in his way. It would make the end results that much more satisfying.

For the moment, however, he focused on escaping. Much of the Reavers were already fleeing, using the various emergency exits and secret passages that Pierce had installed throughout the building. Romulus expected plenty to escape, but assumed more than a few would fall in taking out his would-be buyers. Some might even get chased down or go into hiding. That didn’t bother him. He had a more _robust_ contingency in place.

“Never escape down a path that others can follow,” Romulus said to himself as he stepped out of a maintenance elevator in the parking garage, “an under-appreciated rule of good planning.”

He had long since left the chaos behind, slipping away into a series of secure corridors in the main research lab that most thought had been sealed off. One of those corridors, which had been blocked by a fake cinderblock wall, led to a special elevator once used by maintenance crews. After activating it through a biometrics scanner, he rode it down to the lower-most level of the parking garage.

From there, he sprinted towards another fake wall on the west end of the garage. It led directly to an old utility hatch that fed directly into the Osaka sewer system. From there, he could be on the other side of the city before sunrise. If Hydra, AIM, SHIELD, or anyone else wanted to come after him, they would be out of luck.

Romulus had created such a contingency with the hope he’d never have to use it. As he rounded a corner and ran towards the west end, he still fumed over how someone had hacked his network. It was one thing to just interrupt the auction. It was quite another to turn so many dangerous organizations against them.

_‘I suppose the first step in my new plan should involve securing my financial systems. How anyone could’ve hacked my accounts – let alone hack others into stealing money from the likes of Hydra and the Hand – should not have been possible! That requires resources, access, and subversion on a level beyond even the X-men and the Avengers. There must be other forces at work…powerful forces that I must account for. Whoever they are, I’ll see to it they regret interfering with my plans!’_

There was plenty of planning to do and Romulus intended to begin the second he escaped. After rounding the last corner, slicing through a locked gate in the process, the west end of the parking garage came into view. Unfortunately, he was met with an unexpected sight that stopped him cold in his tracks.

“You!” Romulus exclaimed.

“You’re finally here,” said a smug Jean Grey-Summers as she casually leaned against the wall, “took you long enough.”

“This is…impossible. How could you possible know about…”

“What? You’re super-secret escape plan? I’m a powerful psychic on a team full of other powerful psychics that routinely deal with include ninjas, soldiers, killer robots, and aliens. Use your imagination.”

Romulus wanted to cut her throat, just to silence that humored tone of hers. He’d anticipated Jean’s presence the moment he abducted Wolverine. His plan carefully accounted for her and her friends. She should’ve been neutralized, subdued, or dead already.

Instead, she just stood there before him, right in front of the fake wall that he needed to escape. She looked bemused, but disheveled. She’d clear encountered some of his contingencies. He could smell it on her. She also wasn’t wearing an X-men uniform. Instead, she wore an oversized lab coat and a men’s T-shirt, which she likely picked up from a fleeing technician. How she’d managed to escape his trap had _many_ distressing implications, but Romulus chose to address such matters after making her pay.

With an angry snarl and a frustrated growl, the powerful figure drew his claws and narrowed his gaze on the redheaded woman. He was going to make her regret disrupting his plans.

“You’re making a grave mistake, Mrs. Grey-Summers,” Romulus warned. “The more you get in my way, the more you and your friends will suffer!”

“That would sound _so_ much more menacing if I didn’t hear it at least once a week,” Jean replied, not the least bit intimidated. “Honestly, what did you think was going to happen when you abducted Logan?”

“The same thing that happens to all those who defy their fate. Logan is a pawn. He was a pawn long before he met you, the X-men or any of the misguided souls calling themselves heroes. You helping him just makes you another pawn…one that ensures you’ll share his fate.”

“Is that what you told Daken too? Was it before or after you lied to him about how his mother died? Because based on what I gathered from his memories, you’re pretty clumsy with your pawns.”

Romulus snarled angrily at the redheaded woman. That was another complication that he’d thought he planned for. The effects of the synthetic pheromones should’ve made it impossible to read Daken’s mind. It also should’ve been impossible for Jean to subdue him, especially given the trap he’d set for her.

Something had clearly gone wrong. A lot had gone wrong and it strained even Romulus’ capacity for patience.

“You’re lucky he’s friends with Captain America,” Jean continued. “I’m sure he and Winter Soldier will have a lot to talk about later on, especially after they read some of those encrypted files from your network.”

“Don’t insult me,” scoffed Romulus. “Those files have already self-destructed.”

“Have they?” taunted Jean. “I admit it would’ve been hard to preserve them if I only had the resources of the X-men and the Avengers on hand. Unfortunately for you, I’ve been working with some new resources lately…the kind that can preserve little details like your secure accounts, your connections with Weapon X, and a fairly extensive history with the Yashida Clan.”

Romulus clenched his fists, his frustration turning into utter vitriol. His first instinct was to claim she was bluffing. There was no way that even the X-men could subvert his plans to that extent. However, everything he’d witnessed thus far led him to believe otherwise.

For the first time in many years, Romulus felt vulnerable. He felt as though more than just his plans were collapsing around him. He might very well end up losing more than just the resources he’d hoped to gain from auctioning off Wolverine. Whatever the X-men had done and however they’d done it…his vast ability to plan could not stop them. That once unthinking notion sent him over the edge.

“You lie!” Romulus barked, pointing his claws right at her. “You’re but a pawn! You’re all pawns! I’ll show you while I tear the flesh from your bones!”

With an angry howl of bloodlust that echoed throughout the garage, Romulus charged towards Jean Grey-Summers at full speed. For reasons he didn’t bother contemplating, she didn’t move from her position. She didn’t even flinch, looking so calm that the grin on her face only infuriated him even more.

He looked forward to maiming her where she stood and drowning Logan in her entrails. Then, with her vulnerable flesh just a few feet from his claws, Jean turned away from him and called out.

“Now!” she shouted.

Romulus was so enraged that he barely heard it. That same blind rage kept him from noticing that a figure had been hiding in between the support beams in the ceiling just overhead. When that figure dropped down and landed behind him, even his superhuman reflexes couldn’t prevent it from sticking him with a long, hypodermic needle in the neck.

“You made this too easy for us, Romulus,” said Mystique, a woman he never expected to associate with the X-men.

“Easy, but especially satisfying,” added Jean.

“Which is not something I usually associate with Logan’s affairs.”

“Speak for yourself,” the redhead laughed.

As soon as Romulus felt the needle break his skin, a powerful dread overshadowed his rage. It was one thing to plan for the X-men interfering with his plans, but the X-men and one of their most hated enemies…that defied everything he thought he’d accounted for.

Within seconds, he felt the effects of whatever Mystique had injected him with. Romulus already had a sinking feeling on what that entailed. With his claws just inches away from Jean’s face, he felt every muscle in his body tense to the point of cramping. It was so intense that he froze mid-strike, every muscle in vein in his body bulging with agony. The connection between his brain and body had been effectively severed, rendering his ability to escape and attack pointless.

“Hope you don’t mind. I borrowed some of that extra-pure pheromone you had lying around,” Mystique said, “you know, the same kind you used on Logan. And just to be on the safe side, I gave you ten times the dose you gave him.”

“I’m pretty sure he minds a _lot_ , Mystique,” Jean joked.

“Is that supposed to bother me?”

“For what he used it for? Not in the slightest.”

Romulus tried to let out another angry roar. His brain urged his body to do something, but it didn’t respond. All he could do was grit his teeth and fight his cramping muscles. All his rage and effort proved ineffective, though.

That smug, satisfied smile on Jean’s face widened. After what he’d unleashed on her with Dakan, Romulus didn’t expect much mercy. He still fumed at her as she casually walked around so that he stood right next to him, her lips just a few inches from his right ear.

“What you did to Logan…to me…to everyone…it stops now,” Jean said in a tone too menacing to come from an X-man. “Your plans, accounted for heroes and enemies of all kinds, but they didn’t count for _us_.”

That left Romulus somewhat confused, as well as enraged. Jean Grey was part of the X-men, a well-known superhero team with a well-established connection to Logan. Mystique, who stood next to him as well, looking very bit as smug, should’ve been their enemy. Something had clearly happened behind the scenes for which he hadn’t accounted.

“Don’t bother trying to figure it out. You’ll never know who _we_ actually are,” she continued. “The X-men might have let you escape. They might have even handed you over to SHIELD, just so you could end up in a cell that you’d eventually escape from. Guess what? We’re not doing that anymore. We’ve become more…creative.”

“Say that a little louder, Jean. You’re getting me _excited_ ,” teased Mystique.

“It’s not enough to just thwart the plans of men like you, Romulus,” Jean went on. “I’ve sense learned it’s more _productive_ to simply turn those plans against you and make them our own. From here on out, your agenda will further ours…and you won’t be able to do anything other than watch.”

At that moment, despite the frothing anger and hatred he still felt, Romulus realized something that shook him to his core. He hadn’t just been defeated by Jean Grey and her allies. He’d been manipulated himself, turned into a pawn no different from the ones he so skillfully exploited. He couldn’t think of a worse fate.

“Checkmate,” Jean said with one final grin.

Then, as the defeat began to set in, Jean hit him with the lightest tap on the side of his head. It wasn’t much, but still enough to send him falling to the hard pavement with a thud.

“Hnn…damn you,” were the only words he could get out.

“Speak for yourself,” said Mystique.

Now on his side, his plans in ruin and with no hope of escape, Romulus laid defeated and broken. Looking up as Jean Grey-Summers and Mystique stood over him, he didn’t necessarily dread his ultimate fate. He dreaded just how much he’d aided these women in their own plan.

“Just so you know, I’m not dragging him off to SHIELD,” said Mystique with folded arms. “This is the end of the favor you requested. As of this moment, _you_ officially owe _me_.”

“I understand how favors work, Mystique,” said Jean, rolling her eyes. “You’ve done your part. I’ve already called in a containment team from SHIELD. Maria Hill has Dr. Simmons on standby. They’ve already got a cozy new cell ready for Romulus here…not to mention an unlimited supply of the synthetic pheromones he’s been developing. He’ll be calm, cooperative, and comfortable the entire time…and still hate every minute of it, somehow.”

“That’s _way_ more than he deserves,” said Mystique.

“That’s kind of the point,” said Jean, now kneeling down next to him. “If there’s one thing since I’ve embraced my kinkier side, it’s that the best punishment you can inflict is the one you make someone _really_ want.”

Romulus had no idea what that entailed, but he did not care for the implications. It sounded like the musings of a woman who had a very different side to her than most knew. It wasn’t just a side willing to work with disreputable foes like Mystique. Jean Grey-Summers had become a woman of true cunning, one who knew how to do more than just thwart an enemy’s plans. While he did not fear pain or torment, the idea that he would want to remain someone’s pawn truly terrified him.

“I look forward to seeing that,” said Mystique, “but you and your husband still owe me a spot in your next three-way.”

“Consider it done,” said Jean.

“And maybe a role in your next BDSM party.”

“Don’t push it.”

* * *

**Pierce Robotics – Ballroom**

“More…need…more…fuck!” groaned in increasingly desperate, increasingly fatigued Logan.

“We heard you…the first _twenty_ times,” groaned Mary Jane, feeling plenty of fatigue as well.

“Just a little bit longer, Mary Jane,” said a very disheveled Emma Frost. “I’ve almost got him!”

“You said that…seven cumshots ago.”

“I mean it, this time. He’s wearing down!”

Mary Jane hoped Emma was telling the truth. She didn’t know how much longer they could keep enduring Logan’s ravenous lusts. He’d been fucking her and Emma every which way and then some. Even for someone who’d taken part in orgies and gangbangs, this was pushing it.

He’d already fucked every one of her holes at least twice. Mary Jane’s pussy, ass, and face were dripping with streaks of cum from multiple loads of seminal fluid. Logan had taken her multiple times. For one round, he pinned her on her back and humped her vigorously, fucking her pussy while holding her legs apart. The next, he turned her onto all fours where he alternated between her pussy and ass. Thanks to his healing factor and super-charged instincts, it didn’t take long for him to come. It was like his dick was on rapid-fire.

Emma endured a similar succession of ravaging, getting fucked on her back and on all fours multiple times. He seemed to be even rougher with her, more eagerly fondling her breasts and even nibbling on her tits. By alternating between the two of them, it helped them keep up. While one got fucked hard, the other took a breath. Mary Jane even kept fondling her throbbing pussy, keeping it wet and ready.

Sometimes, they tried to coordinate their efforts. They’d get on top of each other, forcing Logan to alternate more quickly between their pussies when he fucked them. At one point, they even mashed their breasts together and tit-fucked him, if only to give their lower bodies a rest. Somehow, he kept shooting off load after load.

Through the ravenous sex, Mary Jane managed to achieve a few orgasms along the way. Once again, her skills as a former prostitute proved useful. Emma also seemed to manage a few. It helped maintain the mood and kept things going. The goal was still to wear Logan out, making his mind vulnerable to Emma’s telepathy. It just ended up being more exhausting than she’d thought.

_‘I haven’t taken this many loads since my last gangbang. A less horny woman would’ve given up by now. Once again, being a sex-crazed former prostitute with a superhero fetish pays off. It just better pay off sooner because even my pussy can only take so much.’_

Once again, Logan had her on all-fours, holding onto a nearby bar stool while he fucked her from behind. The pace of his fucking wasn’t as vigorous as before. His thrusts were less forceful. His grunts weren’t as vocal. He even seemed to struggle supporting himself, having to lean over her and prop himself up with his arms as he pumped his cock into her pussy.

“More…more…a little…more,” Logan grunted, his voice not as loud or feral as earlier.

“I…can take it. At least…I hope,” moaned Mary Jane, gasped with each thrust.

His throbbing, dripping wet cock kept slithering inside her pussy, which had been thoroughly drenched by a mix of semen and feminine juices. Sweat covered her body, but much of it came from Logan, who seemed to _finally_ be reaching the limits of his healing factor.

That didn’t keep him from nearing another climax. Mary Jane sensed it in the way his dick tensed and his arms shuddered. She held onto the bar stool a little harder, really tensing her inner muscles each time he plunged his length into her. It was meant to speed up the process. It seemed to do the trick.

“Errr fuck!” Logan howled.

“I…I think I’m breaking through!” said Emma.

Mary Jane hoped that wasn’t another false alarm. She closed her eyes and moaned upon feeling yet another load of cum shoot into her pussy. She heard Logan’s blissful grunts, which were so labored it was almost muted. She also felt more sweat from his brow dripping onto her back. Even with a healing factor, he couldn’t _possibly_ have much more left in him. She wasn’t sure how many more rounds she could go.

Finally, just as Logan withdrew his dick from her depths, Mary Jane heard what she’d been waiting for.

“I’ve done it!” Emma proclaimed. “I’ve broken through his mental barriers.”

“Good,” said Mary Jane breathlessly, “now please…let’s end this and skip the afterglow.”

“Gladly!”

With both hands now on her temples, the very naked and disheveled Emma Frost unleashed one last psychic attack. The effect was almost immediate. Logan, barely holding himself upright, let out a low moan as he collapsed onto the floor in a sweaty hip.

“Hnn…finally,” he moaned before passing out.

“Speak for yourself,” said Mary Jane.

His dick was still semi-hard. His mouth hung partially open as the feral man lay on his side, looking more drained than satisfied. Mary Jane understood that Logan hadn’t been entirely in control of his actions. She certainly didn’t plan on holding it against him. However, that didn’t make the lingering soreness in her ass, pussy, and jaw any less jarring.

“Ugh!” the Red Queen groaned. “I’m going to need more than a few showers after this.”

“I’ll need that, three spa days, and a several massages as well,” said Emma, now leaning back on her arms for support. “Those instincts of his were _stubborn_. His whole mind was in overdrive. Just finding his thoughts was frustrating.”

“Is he going to be okay?” Mary Jane asked. “And yes, I realize asking that after taking it up the ass multiple times may skew the sentiment.”

“He’ll be fine,” said Emma. “He’ll be out for a quite a while. Those pheromones still have to pass through his system and he’ll have a _considerable_ migraine as his mind heals itself.”

“I guess we still got off easy…figuratively speaking.”

“I’m not sure any of my holes were up for more,” said Emma, “so maybe it’s not _that_ figurative.”

If Mary Jane weren’t so exhausted and sore, she would’ve laughed. She and her fellow queen still managed a smile. It might have gotten messier and kinkier than expected, but they still succeeded. They rescued Logan, stopped the auction, and even injected a little discord into a few evil organizations. If the only price they paid involved some extra rough sex, then that was a bargain by Hellfire Club standards.

The mission was officially over. Their plan had succeeded, despite a few _complications_ , to say the least. Logan was safe. The Hellfire Club had gained a new edge. The fact it required more cunning, decadence, and nudity was just a minor detail. Mary Jane expected to laugh about it with Peter as soon as he got back from his mission with the Avengers. Hopefully, by then, she’ll have recovered enough for some gentler, more passionate lovemaking.

As Mary Jane entertained those thoughts, the main door to the ballroom burst open. Still tired and sore, she and Emma could only partially return to their feet. Much to their relief, though, it was just Jean. However, the fact that she was wearing someone else’s clothes hinted that she’d encountered some complications of her own.

“Logan!” she said upon seeing his unconscious form. “He’s…”

“He’ll be fine,” said Emma, rolling her eyes. “We’re okay too, thanks for asking. It’s _not_ like we both just got fucked in every hole by a berserker-horny Wolverine, after all.”

“I was concerned about you too,” assured Jean, shaking her head in bemusement, “but I had faith you too could handle it.”

“We’re queens of the Hellfire Club. Of _course_ we could handle it,” said Mary Jane, hoping to lighten the mood. “Next time, though…don’t do this to us on a spa day.”

Jean responded with a humored, but reassuring smile. She’d asked a lot of them on a day that was supposed to be relaxing. While Mary Jane didn’t mind helping the X-men or her fellow queens on personal matters, there had to be some protocol in place. It was the only way they could get things done and further their goals, including the personal ones.

As their strength returned to them, Mary Jane rose to her feet with Emma. They then retrieved their clothes and began getting dressed, leaving Jean to handle Logan and the rest of the unconscious bodies around them.

“I don’t about you two, but I’m officially done for today,” said Emma, “I’m _so_ done that I’m not even curious as to why you’re wearing someone else’s clothes, Jean.”

“Tell you what, Emma,” Jean said as she tended to Logan, “I’ll take care of the clean-up with SHIELD and Yukio’s people. You two get dressed, check into the nearest bath house, and catch up with me at the airport tomorrow.”

“Glad you’re not making us fight for it,” said Mary Jane as she put her underwear back on, “although at some point, I would like to know what the hell happened. I’m assuming there’s more you need to tell us, but would rather wait until we’ve had a good shower…or several.”

Jean’s demeanor shifted, her gaze becoming more serious as she helped the unconscious Logan. Something differently happened between the time she separated from Emma and the time she arrived. Mary Jane sensed it had implications beyond the mission, but like Emma, she was in no condition to process more complications. Instead, she trusted Jean to handle them on her own.

“It’s true. There are a few details I need to share,” she conceded. “I promise I’ll share them with you at some point…after I resolve a few loose ends, that is.”

* * *

**Up Next: Balancing Act**


	4. Balancing Act

** The Red Queen Chronicles: The Lost Son  
Chapter 4: Balancing Act **

* * *

**Xavier Institute – Infirmary**

When it came to escaping destiny, the battle never ended. X-men understood that more than most. Jean Grey understood that better than most X-men. Having literally cheated death – on multiple occasions, no less – she knew what it took to defying the inevitable. It was a big part of Charles Xavier’s vision, evading the conflict that everyone claimed was unavoidable in pursuit of a better future.

Jean had to fight harder than most to forge that future. If anyone in the X-men could claim to fight the hardest, though, it was Logan.

“Ugh! Fuck me with an adamantium sledge-hammer,” groaned the former living weapon.

“Good morning, Logan,” Jean greeted with a humored grin as she sat near his bedside. “You’re looking slightly less miserable than usual.”

“Jeannie…you’re here,” he said, sounding as restless and angry as ever. “Good, that means I ain’t in hell yet.”

“No. You’re in the infirmary,” she informed him, “and you’ve just finished an extensive purge of every conceivable body fluid. It’s a miracle your insides are still in the right place.”

“Better double check. I think my liver’s in my colon,” Logan groaned.

Logan let out series of grunts, coupled with a string of profane curses. He was still in a great deal of discomfort. That was to be expected after the thorough treatment he got after returning from Japan.

After Emma knocked him out – and got him some pants, as well – they called Yukio to get them a quick transport out of Osaka. Since the pheromone was still in his system, they had to keep him unconscious for the entire trip back to Westchester. Along the way, SHIELD arrived to pick up Romulus. They also swept the facility, making a few arrests of the guests he’d invited to the auction. Maria Hill told them that most had escaped and would likely make trouble down the line. Hopefully, the Hellfire Club’s ruse would direct that trouble to all the wrong places.

During their sweep, SHIELD also uncovered some information about the pheromone that Romulus had used on Logan. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to work out a treatment for Logan. Upon returning to the Xavier Institute, Jean had Cecilia Reyes and Dr. Nemesis waiting for them, ready to purge the pheromone from Logan’s system.

Dr. Nemesis said it was just like getting a stomach pumped, but for the entire body. Dr. Reyes told her that even with a healing factor, Logan was going to very sore for a while. That was part of why Jean made sure she was present when he finally woke up. However, she had a much more pressing reason for being there.

“At least tell me I stabbed the right people,” Logan said after finishing his string of profanity. “Tell me I got a few shots on Romulus as well.”

“You don’t have to worry about him anymore,” Jean assured him. “As I speak, Romulus is on his way to the deepest, darkest pit SHIELD can find.”

“Ain’t dark or deep enough for me,” he snarled. “I need at least ten minutes in a windowless room with that dirt bag!”

“Logan…” said Jean, attempting to calm him down.

“For what he did to me…what he was gonna do…I’m gonna make him pay!” he went on, rising up in the bed.

“Logan…”

“He was gonna do it, Jeannie. He was gonna make me the meat puppet everyone’s been wanting since they shot me up with adamantium.”

“Logan!” Jean said, the heart-rate monitor beeping louder.

“I remember everything he did…how close he came to succeeding,” he said, now attempting to rip the IVs out of his arms. “I gotta find him…make him pay!”

“Logan stop!”

Jean placed a hand on his chest, which stopped him from pulling out the IVs. She was tempted to use her telekinesis to pin him to the bed, but after what he’d endured with Romulus, that wouldn’t have been fair.

Thankfully, her caring touch was enough. Logan, still fuming with anger and discomfort, settled under her concerned gaze. She knew how much he hated hospitals and infirmaries to begin with. The scars of Weapon X ran really that deep. However, those scars were secondary for once. There was another, more personal issue that they needed to confront.

“You’re angry, frustrated, and in a _lot_ of discomfort. I get that,” Jean said in a calm, caring tone.

“Jeannie, you mean the world to me,” he told her, “but there’s only so much you can _get_ with a guy like me.”

“That may be true for what Romulus put you through,” she conceded, “but there’s something else we need to discuss before you look for someone to stab…or, more accurately, _someone_.”

Logan shifted, his anger and frustration quickly turning into something else entirely. Like a heavy weight hitting his every limb, he fell back in the bed, looking like he’d rather fight Sabretooth than talk about this.

“Ah hell,” he cursed. “Why the hell do you always gotta fuck up my priorities?”

“Because you’re terrible at prioritizing. You acknowledged that the first week you were here,” Jean reminded him.

“I hate that your memory of those days is so damn good.”

“And you do plenty to prove that every time you run off to do your own thing,” Jean went on. “The X-men always have your back. _I_ always have your back. But there’s only so much your friends can do when your personal battles take on more personal stakes…even when you don’t even know how personal they are.”

Logan fell silent, his expression tensing as he recalled the events of the past few days. Jean sensed him replaying every moment in his head. His memories might have been fractured, but some were still plenty vivid. The ones involving Daken were still fresh and already leaving scars every bit as bad as Weapon X.

Jean gave him as much time as he needed to collect his thoughts. She pulled back from the bed, the only sound in the room now coming from the heart-rate monitor. Learning about Daken was a big deal, just learning about Laura had been a big deal. She came into his life unexpectedly, albeit under different circumstances. Those circumstances had been rough, but they paled in comparison to Daken.

That didn’t even take into account the encounter Jean had with Daken during the rescue mission. However, she’d decided to keep that detail to herself for now. She figured Logan had enough to deal with already.

“So…I have a son,” Logan said, finally breaking the silence, “a son _and_ a clone daughter.”

“That’s _one_ way of looking at it,” said Jean with folded arms.

“Oh yeah? What’s the other?”

“You have a _family_ ,” she said, “a very unusual family, but still a family.”

“You almost make it sound like a good thing.”

“It _can_ be,” she pointed out, “and that’s coming from someone whose family includes a biological son from a clone that I raised in the future.”

“Okay, I’ll give you that one,” said Logan, rolling his eyes. “It’s just that knowing I have a kid is tough enough, but the part that really bugs me…”

His words trailed off, devolving into another string of curses. Jean scooted in closer again and placed her hand on his in another comforting gesture. Logan might have been a brutish man by nature, but he wore his emotions on his sleeve. It didn’t take a telepath to sense what he was feeling.

“You’re worried about the implications,” she surmised, “that who his mother is, where he came from, and how he stayed hidden for so long will reveal something about your past…something you’d rather not know.”

“I wanna say ignorance is bliss, but it keeps biting me in the ass so damn much that I’m still waiting for the bliss,” Logan muttered.

“Then, I’ll skip the part where I try to convince you to confront this. Daken _is_ still out there. SHIELD did a six-block sweep of the area when they picked up Romulus. They didn’t find a trace.”

“Of course they didn’t,” he said. “Now, he’s got no one holding him back and plenty of free time to hate my guts all he wants. I’m sure _that’ll_ make for a happy reunion.”

The sarcasm in his voice, along with the weight of so many distressing possibilities, revealed a lot about a man who carried himself as such a loner. Logan was still figuring things out with Laura. The idea of dealing with another lost offspring in Daken had to be overwhelming, even for him.

Jean consoled her long-time friend and occasional lover as best she could, placing her hand over his and offering reassuring smile. While it did little to ease his concerns, it did help temper his mood.

“You’ll figure it out. You did it with Laura. You can do it with Daken,” Jean assured him.

“Between the goofy hair, the bad attitude, and that pheromone shit, it may take longer,” said Logan. “I ain’t looking forward to it and I doubt he will either. At least Laura kept things simple. First, she wanted to kill me. Then, she wanted my help.”

“Then, you’ll find another way. Daken may be _different_ from Laura, but he’s still your son,” said Jean, her own experience with the man having colored her perceptions. “At the very least, him wanting to kill you shows that you matter to him.”

“That supposed to be encouraging?” he asked dryly.

“Think of it as context. You’re the kind of man whose life has been influenced by powerful forces…dangerous, sadistic forces that have tried to control you. Laura endured similar influences. We don’t know much about Daken, but if Romulus is any indication, he’s dealt with it too.”

“And probably scarred for life…or several,” made Logan.

“All the more reason to connect with him,” Jean retorted. “You two may never become the kind of father and son who go on fishing trips and fix motorcycles together, but take it from someone whose offspring are horribly scarred by apocalyptic futures…it’s _never_ too late to influence your children in the right way.”

Logan still seemed skeptical. That, or he was still in too much discomfort to even think about what he would say to Daken. It was bound to be an unpleasant conversation, one that was sure to get messy, as was often the case whenever Logan learned something about his past.

Jean remained confident he could handle it, though. She’d seen him grow so much since he joined the X-men. She’d seen even more growth since Laura came into his life and since he got serious about his relationship with Storm. He was a man who sincerely wanted to build a better life and escape the monster he’d been in the past. Daken was now part of that past. It wouldn’t be easy to reconcile, but she intended to support him as any friend and occasional lover could…although that didn’t mean the Black Queen couldn’t help at times, either.

Reassured in Logan’s recovery, Jean gave him a soft kiss on the forehead and rose from her seat. Given his healing factor, he’d probably be on his feet and chugging beer by lunch.

“Give that some thought while you rest,” said Jean. “The rest of the team will be back tomorrow and I’m sure they’ll want to hear all about your long-lost son.”

“Looking forward to it,” he said dryly. “I’m sure Ro and Laura will be _thrilled_.”

“For your ever-growing family? How could they not?” she teased.

Logan rolled his eyes, but still cracked a smile. Jean was one of the few who could get him to do that, even when he was in a lousy mood. That was a good thing too because the ordeal wasn’t quite over for him.

Before she left the room, Jean telekinetically retrieved an ice pack from a nearby table and tossed it onto Logan’s lap.

“Also, you should probably hold onto _this_ ,” she told him.

“Why? My head ain’t throbbing that hard,” said Logan.

“Oh, that’s not for your head. It’s for your balls…or, at least, it will be.”

Logan shifted uncomfortably and cast her a look of confusion. If he weren’t still recovering from injuries and revelations about a long lost son, it would’ve been hilarious.

“Uh…any reason I should be worried about that?” he asked anxiously.

“If you remember what happened while you were under Romulus’ control, then yeah…you should have a clue,” said Jean. “For what Emma and Mary Jane did to free you…well, let’s just say you owe them.”

His expression shifted again and it was even more hilarious. Logan mumbled a string of curses to himself, shaking his head restlessly. He might not have been in control of himself, but he had to have remembered _some_ of the details. He also had enough experience with the Hellfire Club to understand the implications.

“Fuck me,” the former living weapon groaned.

“Save it for later,” said Jean. “Emma and Mary Jane are already preparing a very _special_ Danger Room scenario for you this evening. Parts of you are going to enjoy it…others, not so much. Just trust me when I say when all is said and done, you’ll be even.”

“At least tell me you’ll be there for moral support,” he said, likely contemplating the exceedingly kinky possibilities.

“Sorry, but this is between the three of you,” she said as she left the infirmary. “Besides, I have my own personal business to take care of before our friends get back.”

* * *

**New York City, Chinatown – Later That Evening**

_‘Since I became the Black Queen of the Hellfire Club, I’ve found myself in situations where I have choices that I never would’ve had as Jean Grey-Summers, Marvel Girl, or even the Phoenix. Not all of them have to do with my sex life, but they reveal something critical about the kind of woman I am. Doing the right thing doesn’t always mean holding back. In fact, a little kink goes a long way towards making what feels right feel just as good.’_

Sitting in a sushi bar, enjoying a bowl of noodles and some of New York’s finest Japanese cuisine, Jean Grey-Summers patiently waited for the last piece of an elaborate plan that had grown beyond a typical X-men mission. For the most part, the mission was complete. Logan had been rescued, Romulus had been imprisoned, and multiple evil organizations were now at each other’s throats, thanks some devious tactics that only the Hellfire Club dared to attempt.

Not long ago, Jean would’ve been content to leave it at that. Anything that didn’t involve the core details of a mission was just bonus and most X-men – as well as most costume heroes, for that matter – weren’t inclined to push their luck. A part of being heroes involved being satisfied with the basics. Conversely, the Hellfire Club was all about maximizing satisfaction and not just sexually.

As Jean Grey-Summers of the X-men, there was nothing left to do in the battle against Romulus. As the Black Queen of the Hellfire Club, though, there was one loose end that she refused to leave unresolved. She’d spent too much of her life leaving things unfinished or unresolved. She and her husband had tried to change that and part of that effort required the willing participation of someone with little incentive to offer it.

Jean arrived at the sushi bar with no guarantee that the person she’d contacted through the Hellfire Club’s secure network would show up. It probably would’ve been easier for them to just ignore it entirely and move on from there. She chose to trust that the person who received her message also understood why this issue could not be ignored. Before she’d even finished her meal, her trust was rewarded.

“You have good tastes, Mrs. Grey-Summers,” greeted a familiar voice, “and more refined pallet than most American women.”

“I’m glad you appreciate that, Daken,” said Jean, not even looking up from her meal. “I also appreciate you coming all this way, knowing you had plenty of reasons to cash in that free plane ticket I sent and hit the nearest karaoke bar.”

“I was never much of a singer. I’m also not a fan of leaving business _unfinished_.”

“Like father like son, indeed,” she said with a half-smile.

“Don’t push it. I’m not ready to accept _that_ as a compliment.”

He still sounded angry, bitter, and exceedingly arrogant. In that sense, he was quite distinct from his father. Jean had sensed that during their previous encounter. Meeting him in public, his mind no longer obscured by Romulus’ manipulation, further highlighted those distinctions.

Jean still greeted him with a friendly smile. Daken didn’t smile back, but the fact he’d shown up really encouraged her. Even so, she didn’t assume too much. He was hardly dressed for a high-end sushi bar, wearing a hoodie with black jeans. She didn’t blame him, either.

Daken didn’t exactly have a spotless record in the eyes of the authorities, both local and international. His work with Romulus had given him a bloody record to say the least. SHIELD still had him listed as a person of interest for many of Romulus’ activities, which was usually code for immediate detention. While not quite on the same level as his father, he had a long way to go before he could walk around in the open without added scrutiny and him being in a SHIELD holding sell would do more harm than good.

Regardless of his record, he sat down at the table across from Jean. She’d made sure they had a table in the corner where they wouldn’t be bothered. Logan knew the head chef of the sushi bar and gladly accommodated her request for privacy. For what she and Daken had to discuss, they couldn’t risk too much exposure and not just due to Romulus’ lingering influence.

“I almost didn’t come here,” Daken admitted, grabbing her half-empty glass of wine and gulping it down. “I came close to turning back more than once at the airport.”

“And yet, you’re here,” Jean pointed out.

“Yes, I’m here. Throw a parade, if you wish,” he said, “but don’t think for a _second_ that I’m here out of guilt or regret.”

“I’m psychic, Daken. I promise that thought never crossed my mind more than once,” said Jean, taking another bite of her sushi.

“Then, don’t expect me to explain myself, either. If you’ve read my mind, then you know where I come from and what I’ve been through. And there isn’t a damn thing you can say to make me apologize for my _actions_.”

“I wasn’t going to ask that of you. And I don’t need your apology to forgive you. I’ve already done that, Daken.”

“Yes, you are _disgustingly_ forgiving,” said Daken dryly. “It’s why people like you become superheroes and people like me…well, like you said, you’re psychic. You already know.”

There was plenty of harshness to his tone, but also plenty of pain. Jean had heard it before and from Logan, fittingly enough. Harsh circumstances and deep scars had a way of hardening someone, even when offered compassion. Jean sensed in Daken a level of pain that had affected him very differently compared to Logan or X-23. As such, she couldn’t confront him the same way.

Setting aside her unfinished meal, Jean narrowed her gaze on the man sitting across from her. She watched as he pulled back his hoodie, revealing his distinct hair style and part of his elaborate tattoos that covered the left side of his neck. His life had taken such a different path, compared to his father, but they had both been victimized by similar tragedies.

“For the record, I didn’t read _all_ your thoughts,” Jean pointed out. “I just gleaned over the basics.”

“How _polite_ of you,” Daken said dryly.

“It was more than enough to learn the critical parts of your story,” she said, “like how Romulus used you by having Winter Soldier murder your mother and blame Logan for it. From your adopted parents to your training, he controlled the course of your life. He made it so that from the day you were born, you were his pawn.”

“Be careful with how you interpret my life, Ms. Grey-Summers,” he warned her. “Even with Romulus’ defeat, there are certain scars that run deep…some of which are far deeper than they were before our encounter.”

“I don’t doubt that. You’ve spent a lifetime being influenced by men like Romulus, knowing nothing but hate, arrogance, and bloodlust. Even without the influence of pheromones, that sort of thing can’t be brushed off easily.”

“Spare me your pity, but I’ll accept your understanding,” said Daken, finally showing some signs of humility. “I guess if there’s one trait I don’t mind sharing with my father, it’s our aversion to being controlled.”

“Which gives me genuine hope that you’re capable of being better than your attitude would suggest,” Jean said with a bemused grin, “and the X-men are nothing if not hopeful.”

“If you’re going to try and recruit me, save your breath. I’ve no desire to join the X-men…not now, not in the absence of my father, and not for the foreseeable future.”

“I noticed you didn’t say _never_ ,” said Jean with a coy grin.

“Don’t take that as a sign,” he quipped. “I don’t like speaking in absolutes. That’s what made Romulus such a manipulative piece of shit. As it stands, I’m still uncertain about the path before me. I still have many choices to make, but I intend to make them without certain _influences_.”

Daken came off as more serious and sincere. Having had so many life choices made for him, either by circumstance or by Romulus, Jean couldn’t blame him for wanting to chart his own course. It wasn’t clear how much those choices involved him crossing paths with his father or the X-men again, but she wasn’t about to nudge him in any particular direction. She’d learned from her own experience that such choices had to be made freely and willingly.

That didn’t keep Jean from holding out hope that Daken would eventually become an ally to the X-men and a part of Logan’s growing family. It might take a while. Daken still carried himself with more arrogance and callousness than most, even for those associated with Logan. She was willing to be patient, but she was just as willing to create _other_ opportunities along the way.

“Then, I suppose the most I can do is wish you the best in making those choices,” said Jean. “Whatever they end up being, I hope they bring you happiness.”

“After what I’ve been through, happiness is hardly the primary goal…or even a secondary one, for that matter,” said Daken. “For now, I’ll settle for clarity, vindication, and maybe a little vengeance.”

“Sounds like you’ve got your priorities in line,” said Jean. “Just remember that if you ever need allies who don’t want to manipulate you…well, you know where to find us.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, but not the subtext,” he said with a half-grin. “I know that’s what Jean Grey-Summers, the proud X-men and well-known superhero, wants to say. For the rest of my stay, though, I need to speak to the Black Queen.”

Jean’s expression shifted, taking on the devious, yet playful grin that she’d grown so fond of since joining the Hellfire Club. Daken responded with a glance of his own. The arrogance turned to intrigue, as though the darker part of her persona interested him far more than the caring, charitable woman who was the face of the X-men. She even shared some of that intrigue, almost to the point of being aroused by it.

It was still a strange feeling, having suppressed that part of her persona for so long. She’d learned how to channel it into productive, not to mention _satisfying_ , ways in recent times. She figured Daken would respond better to that persona. That was encouraging. It also meant his choices might benefit the both of them.

“I take it that means we’re going to talk about less pleasant issues…relatively speaking,” said Jean in a tone befitting of the Black Queen.

“There’s nothing relative about it,” said Daken. “I may not have been in control or able to choose, but I know what happened during our previous encounter.”

“Yeah, I haven’t forgotten either,” she said. “I still have the scratches and bite marks to prove it.”

“Then, I hope you haven’t forgotten why I did it,” he went on. “It wasn’t entirely a matter of choice. It wasn’t a matter of me being Romulus’ pawn either. It was a situation where there were no good choices and no clear alternatives to pursue.”

“Somehow, I doubt this is leading towards an apology.”

“I don’t apologize, Ms. Grey-Summers…not for circumstances I cannot control…not for actions that I’ve no reason to regret. I don’t see much merit in seeking forgiveness for something that doesn’t bother me beyond a certain context.”

Jean’s gaze narrowed with a mix of criticism and disdain. Daken was clearly not as empathetic as his father. He didn’t seem to feel guilty in the same way Logan did whenever he lost control. Logan often tortured himself for the terrible things he did while under the influence of others. Daken barely seemed bothered by it. He didn’t come off as a complete sociopath, but it did make clear that he saw his attack on her in a particular light.

“The only thing about that situation that troubles me – which is also the reason we’re meeting in person rather than resolving this over the phone – is the _imbalance_ of it all,” said Daken.

“Imbalance? Is _that_ what you want to call it?” questioned Jean.

“Yes, and for good reason,” he went on. “Romulus was a lying, cheating, manipulative piece of shit, but he did teach me one important lesson. When you’ve hurt another, directly or indirectly, it creates a _disparity_. Call it karma. Call it reciprocity. Call it whatever spiritual bullshit you want. The effect is the same. Leave that disparity unaddressed…let it linger and grow over time…and eventually, it’ll come back to bite you.”

“And not in the kinky sort of way,” said Jean.

“No. Not in the slightest,” said Daken, still dead serious. “Romulus created many disparities with his actions…as have I, even without his influence. If I’m to have any hope of forging my own path, I cannot have such burdens holding me back. While there are some I can do nothing about, there are others I _can_ control.”

His tone shifted once more, becoming both sincere and somewhat seductive. Jean then sensed him reach under the table, take her hand, and place it on his thigh. He even made it a point to have her squeeze it, but not in a way that conveyed affection or desire. Instead, he had her touch him in a way that showed clear, overt dominance.

That aroused Jean to an extent that she didn’t bother hiding. She could already feel a heat forming between her thighs, making her panties feel extra moist. Becoming the Black Queen had given her plenty of fondness for certain forms of _domination_. Emma and Mary Jane often commented how quickly she’d embraced it. If they had known some of the kinky activities that she and Scott did on their off-nights, their jaws would’ve hit the floor.

She wasn’t sure Daken knew what he was getting into, beyond just balancing things out. If he was serious, then she was even more encouraged by his choices.

“And here I was hoping I could just guilt you into simple revenge sex,” said Jean.

“Oh please,” he scoffed, “I save the simpler forms of intimacy for those too foolish to appreciate it. But you, Jean Grey-Summers…you’re not that foolish.”

“No. I’m _not_ ,” she said sternly, now speaking with the full authority of the Black Queen. “I should warn you, Daken…I’m a woman who spent most of her life repressing every deviant impulse she’s ever had. It’s only recently I’ve begun exploring them and…well, let’s just say it can get a little _hectic_.”

“I pity those who aren’t durable or capable of enduring such passions,” said Daken, her stern tone seeming to arouse him.

“You really think you could handle _my_ passions?” she said, almost threateningly. “That – after what you did to me – you could subject yourself to my whims and come out of it in one piece?”

“You can stop making it sound so appealing,” he teased. “I’ve already made my choice. This is how I want to finish the _situation_ that began with our first encounter.”

“And you think that’ll balance things out?”

“If you can think of a way more fitting and satisfying, I’d love to hear it.”

He grabbed her hand again and guided it up his thigh, eventually reaching hardened bulge that had already formed in his pants. The proved there was nothing subversive about Daken’s sentiment. He meant what he said. He was even aroused by the idea.

_‘He really wants this. I can sense him lowering his psychic defenses. He doesn’t just want me to fuck him as hard as he fucked me. He wants me to outright attack him with my lust. God help me, I want to! I don’t know if he’s using that pheromone trick of his, but fuck I want to!’_

Jean’s thoughts raced and her loins moistened. When she chose to reach out to Daken, she’d hoped to get some kind of recourse for what he did to her. She didn’t assume it would take the form of kinky sex. If anything, that was a long-shot at best. It seemed as though Daken was either that willing to go the extra mile. That, or maybe he just had far kinkier tastes than his father. It was probably a combination of the two.

“Can’t say anything comes to mind. Can’t say I want to try too hard, either,” said Jean, unable to hide her lust and excitement.

“Good,” grinned Daken. “I’d rather you save such efforts for more _intimate_ settings.”

“Funny you should say that,” she said. “There’s an S&M dungeon just a few blocks from here…one that just so happens to owe the Hellfire Club a few favors.”

“I’m familiar with your organizations many connections, Ms. Grey-Summers. I don’t see how that’s funny or surprising.”

Reacting on kinky whim – the same whims she once held back – Jean squeezed the bulge in Daken’s pants, so much so that he winced. She was neither gentle nor seductive with her touch. At that moment, the diplomatic persona that Jean had adopted for this encounter disappeared. Instead, the domineering Black Queen that so skillfully used submissive men for her pleasure took hold.

“That’s Mistress Grey-Summers, to you,” Jean said firmly. “You’re talking to the goddamn Black Queen now. You’ve made your choice and I’ve made mine. That means I’m paying the damn bill, we’re going to that dungeon, and you’re going to spend the rest of the night being my submissive little fuck toy. Is that understood?”

She squeezed hid dick through his pants even harder, causing him to wince again. It clearly hurt, but Daken still seemed to enjoy it. If anything, it got him even more excited for the kinky exploits that lay before them.

“Yes, my Mistress. By all means…lead the way!”

* * *

**New York City – Red Palace S &M Dungeon**

Strange things happened in the minds of the sexually repressed. Even powerful telepaths struggled to understand it. As complex as the mind could be, sometimes the simplest of acts – or their absence, as it were – had a way of warping desires, proclivities, and the overall breadth of one’s sexuality. Jean Grey-Summers didn’t know just how much repression had shaped her sexuality in the past, but it certainly made some interesting results in the present.

“Eyes forward,” the Black Queen commanded as she shoved Daken forward. “Keep moving, slave!”

“I’m moving as fast as I can, Mistress,” said Daken with playful submissiveness.

“Shut up!” she barked while holding the back of his neck firmly. “Only your _mistress_ can make that judgement.”

Daken fell silent, although he did a poor job of hiding his excitement. Jean had been exceedingly harsh with him since they left the sushi bar, treating him like a prisoner who’d just turned himself in and was in need of punishment.

As soon as they were outside, the authoritative persona of the Black Queen took over. Jean got behind Daken, pushed him forward, and led him down two blocks of busy New York City streets to an S&M dungeon that already knew her well. She didn’t even have to make an appointment. As soon as she sent a text message to the owner, who had ties to Emma Frost, she had special chamber reserved and ready for Daken’s judgment.

Jean was intentionally pushy with him, treating him like the same way an overbearing master would treat an insubordinate slave. In the world of S&M, it was the simplest possible approach. Jean had exercised it before with Scott, the Hellfire guards, and a few other lovers. She was usually more measured in exercising the authority of the Black Queen, but the way Daken _enjoyed_ it gave Jean more incentive to push her domineering sexuality even further.

“You _need_ my righteous judgement,” she told him, leaning in and whispering into his ear. “You want balance? You want to right the wrongs you need to right?”

“Yes, Mistress. I want that,” Daken said intently.

“Then you need me,” Jean said sternly, “and you need to do _exactly_ what I say.”

She felt Daken tremble with excitement as they made their way to the VIP chamber. They had just entered the dungeon through a special side-entrance reserved for high-paying customers. The owner knew to keep the halls clear and the scrutiny to a minimum. Mary Jane once joked that they could perform open-heart surgery in a pool of pig’s blood in those chambers and nobody would bat an eye, so long as someone got off on it.

Jean didn’t expect to need anything _that_ elaborate to render her judgement against Daken, but she was going to make the most of the opportunity before her. When else was she going to get to dominate a man with such a robust healing factor?

“What I’m going to do to you…after what you did to me…you better brace yourself!” Jean told him.

“I already am, Mistress,” said Daken, goading her with his wry tone.

She roughed him up a little more, shoving him forward and adding a little telekinesis to the mix. They had just ascended a flight of dank stairs in which the walls had been adorned with various S&M art and bondage tools. She’d purposefully tripped him up along the way, forcing him to taste the dirty floor so that he got a feel for what a lowly slave he was. He seemed to get the message, but kept egging her on.

After exiting the stairwell, they entered a hall that had been decorated like an old medieval castle. Emma told her that some of the artifacts had been imported from Latveria. Along with the dank, dirty air so typical of a dungeon, it set the perfect ambience for S&M.

Upon reaching the end of the hall, Jean showed more assertiveness, grabbing Daken by the neck and pushing him right up against the door. She then held him there with a wall of telekinesis, leaving him prone and vulnerable. However, she could still see the perverse grin on his face. He was still enjoying it a bit too much for her tastes.

“Your punishment awaits, Daken,” Jean said sternly. “Now, get inside!”

“Yes, my Mistress,” said Daken, his voice trembling with a mix of fear and arousal.

Despite being pinned, the feral man reached over and unlocked the heavy chamber door. It had to be heavy because, like every wall and entrance in the dungeon, it was sound-proofed. That way, no one could hear the cries for mercy from the submissives.

Jean had every intention of wiping that grin of Daken’s face when she pulled the door open with her telekinesis and shoved him inside. Just as she’d hoped, the owner had prepared it to the same specifications he did with Emma and Mary Jane.

It was a perfect blend of a dungeon and a luxury hotel suite, complete with a fancy bed that just happened to have chain-link restraints, blindfolds, gags, and multiple whips within reaching distance. It also had more kinky art adorning the walls, each depicting various acts of decadence and debauchery. There was also an assortment of S&M style furniture, including chairs with special restraints and a table armed with shackles. It was all illuminated by an assortment of old-world chandeliers and torch-like lights.

Such a setting used to make Jean uncomfortable. Now, it made her excited and very horny. The idea that she could use everything in the room to dominate, torment, and exploit Daken for her own pleasure was enough to make her feel moist between her thighs. However, just enjoying some kinky sex was _not_ the sole purpose of this endeavor.

“Up against the wall. Now!” she barked.

Daken, after stumbling halfway through the room from Jean’s shoving, practically ran up to the dirty stone wall. She didn’t need to add any telekinetic force. He just did what she said, as a good submissive should. It was a promising start, but he still had a long _way_ to go.

“Turn around,” Jean ordered as she approached him, “arms up over your head.”

“Yes, Mistress,” said Daken obediently.

He did as he was told and with less attitude. There was still an arrogance to his demeanor, but Jean suspected that just might be part of his personality. She didn’t mind, though. That just meant she had more incentive to dominate him.

With his back now against the wall, his arms at an angle, Jean used her telekinesis to retrieve a couple wrist-shackles hanging from the wall. They weren’t the soft kind either. They were made of real metal with real locks. As she used them to secure his wrists, trapping him against the wall like a common prisoner, they made plenty of noise. She needed him to feel like he was in a real dungeon.

“Bound like a slave,” Jean commented, “but still in need of discipline. You’re a bad, bad man, Daken.”

“You have _no_ idea, Mistress,” said Daken, looking too comfortable to be in shackles.

“You’re right. I don’t. What you did to me back in Japan…that was probably a _fraction_ of what you did under Romulus’ orders. Guess that means I’ll have to punish you that much more.”

In a show of escalating dominance, Jean walked up to him and grabbed him by the neck. She then choked him hard, causing him to gasp at first. However, he kept on grinning. Again, he seemed to enjoy it. He just wouldn’t stop tempting her. In some ways, it frustrated Jean. In others, it excited her even more.

“As an X-man, I’m surrounded by a lot of good, honorable men,” she went on. “It’s rare that I find myself in the presence of someone so overtly deviant. It’s even rarer I have an opportunity to punish one in a way I can enjoy.”

As Jean said those words, her grip on his neck loosened and she sensually trailed her hand down Daken’s chest. While not built the same way as Logan, Daken still had a very strong physique. She intended to test that physique, as well as his devious proclivities.

“I’m going to make use of this opportunity,” Jean said, “and you’re going to accept that punishment like a good, humble slave.”

“I will, Mistress. I will!” he said eagerly.

“And the first step in being a humble slave is _dressing_ the part,” she added.

Taking a step back for a brief moment, Jean summoned a bit of her Phoenix powers, briefly surrounding her body in a cosmic halo. She then directed that power at Daken, using it to dematerialize his clothes, causing his hoodie, pants, boots, and underwear to disappear as though they’d been burnt off.

It was meant to be a demonstration of her power, but it also gave Jean a more complete view of Daken’s physique. Having not been able to admire it during their first encounter, she found herself admiring him. However, she only did so to the extent that a queen admired a new toy.

“There…much better,” she said with a lurid grin. “Exposed, bound, and at my mercy…just like a slave should be.”

“For you, Mistress, there can be nothing less,” said Daken.

He almost sounded proud of his disposition. That, or he sensed how much she liked what she saw. Before becoming the Black Queen, Jean rarely let herself admire thee male physique. Then, after spending some time with Emma Frost and Mary Jane, she learned quickly to appreciate the beauty of masculine flesh.

Daken was so fit, his body so tightly packed with muscle. He was not as large as Logan, in terms of build, but he made up for that with style and endowment. Unlike his father, he had little body hair. In fact, if the scent of male skin-care and hair-care products were any indication, Daken washed, shaved, and pampered himself as much as Emma Frost on a spa day. The added presence of the tattoo that covered half his body, as well as a sizable cock that was comparable to his father, the man had unique sex appeal…the kind that appealed to more than just women.

With critical eye, like a woman scrutinizing a new piece of jewelry, Jean approached the bound man and casually trailed her fingers over the sinews of his upper body. She was gentle in some areas, but rough in others, much to Daken’s amusement.

“Your vanity reveals a lot about you,” Jean commented. “You take such pride in your appearance, as well as your abilities. I’ve known your father to wear the same pair of boxer shorts for two week. I doubt you wear anything that isn’t on par with Milan imports.”

“You are observant, Mistress,” said Daken.

“Compliments won’t earn you mercy,” said Jean, clenching his neck again. “I also sense a great deal of _flexibility_ in your sexual pursuits. I didn’t just glean that from your thoughts, either. Your history reveals a man who embraces deviance in many forms.”

“I like to think I’m…adaptive,” he said in a boastful tone.

“In certain areas, you probably are. In others – namely the ones I’ll be testing tonight – well, that remains to be seen!”

She released her grip on his neck again. She then used her telekinesis to retrieve a blindfold from a nearby table across the room. With skill she’d refined from her various S&M experience at the Hellfire Club, she put it on Daken’s face and secured it so that he was fully blinded.

“Most who submit to me have a specific fetish in mind,” said Jean, “one that allows them to carry out a specific task, relative to a certain fantasy. For you, though – a man who embraces deviance and flaunts his sexual malleability – I’ve no intention of being _that_ specific.”

Jean let Daken contemplate that as she prepared. While he hung there against the wall, bound and blindfolded, she telekinetically opened a dresser that sat on the far side of the room. From it, she retrieved her favorite S&M outfit, which Emma and Mary Jane helped her design the day after she joined the Hellfire Club.

The outfit consisted of black thigh-high stiletto boots that attached to a garter around her waist, a revealing black thong that barely covered her private areas, matching arm-length leather gloves, a leather corset that was specifically cut to allow her breasts to hang out, and a spiked collar. Using the same trick she’d used with Daken, she summoned her Phoenix powers to dematerialize her clothes, rendering her temporarily nude. She then put on the provocative attire, making sure Daken heard the leather slapping against her skin as she secured the gloves, thong, and boots.

In addition to her bawdy attire, she used a leather band to bind her hair in a tight bun. Now dressed in full S&M attire, Jean Grey-Summers felt the full persona of the Black Queen take over. She was no longer the kind, compassionate woman who helped innocent mutants as an X-man and conducted herself like a hero. She was a deviant, promiscuous, hardcore bitch on a power trip.

_‘I’ll never get used to this feeling…the authority and the power to satisfy my every desire. I doubt I’ll get tired of it, either!’_

With a devious grin that would’ve made Sinister tremble, the Black Queen stormed over to Daken. In a show of her dominance, she roughly pressed her forearm up against his neck while firmly grabbing his balls.

“Ack!” Daken choked, his expression finally changing.

“In this domain, I am the queen. You are the slave,” Jean told him. “Your pain and pleasure is _mine_ to control.”

She choked him harder, adding more pressure to his neck and his balls. Daken choked and gagged again, coughing under her domination. In such an overt exercise of force, Jean felt a surge of adrenaline, coupled with excitement. Both soon converged to create an intense state of arousal. She could already feel an intense heat between her thighs, her pussy becoming very moist in anticipation.

As aroused as she felt, though, the Black Queen’s priorities weren’t solely on pursuing her own pleasure. There would be plenty of time for that. The memories of what Daken did to her when he had her under his control were still fresh in his mind. From her perspective, that had to be balanced before either of them could get what they sought.

“But for what you did to me,” Jean went on, “it’s necessary to impart pain before extracting pleasure. And since you’re so tough and durable, I’ll just have to be extra _thorough_.”

She choked and squeezed him a little harder, causing more coughs and groans. That was just a taste of what was in store for him. When she finally released him, she barely gave him enough time to catch his breath.

“Mistress,” he gasped. “Please…punish me.”

“Ha! You think you can take my punishment?” scoffed the Black Queen.

“For my mistress…I must.”

He almost sounded desperate, like a man who _craved_ punishment. He’d been dead serious about balancing his misdeeds. In fact, Daken seemed excited by the prospect. It showed in the way his dick became semi-erect.

That just gave Jean even more motivation to hasten her punishment. Using her telekinesis once more, she retrieved the biggest, hardest whip that had been mounted on the wall near the bed. It was not the playful kind of whip, either. There were no feathers, padding, or safety features of any kind. It was a real whip that real masters used on their slaves, complete with a special tip that was intended to wound flesh.

Jean had only used it a handful of times, but in a very limited capacity. Some of the Hellfire Guards were trained for such extreme S&M acts. However, she still had to be careful with them. They were just mindless servants and their flesh was still very human. Daken, however, was very different.

He wasn’t just tougher and more durable, thanks to his healing factor. He was an unapologetically devious man who’d used his pheromone powers to fuck her. She might never have a better opportunity to punish a man while also exercising her kinkiest desires.

“In that case, my slave,” the Black Queen said, now gripping the whip firmly, “accept your punishment!”

Without reservation of any kind, Jean struck Daken with the whip. She hit him right across the chest, the heavy tip tearing into his flesh and leaving a sizable mark. He winced at the pain that followed, parts of his flesh bruising as a result. However, his healing factor went to work and the wound disappeared within seconds.

Jean, emboldened by seeing Daken’s ability to take it, gripped the whip harder and prepared to strike again. This time, she put even more force behind it, striking Daken around the abdomen, leaving an even bigger mark than before. She didn’t let his healing factor kick in too quickly, either. She continued hitting him with a steady succession of strikes.

“That’s it, slave! Take it!” the Black Queen barked. “Take…your…punishment!”

“Aaghhh!” Daken groaned.

Jean didn’t let up, keeping up with Daken’s healing factor and striking him repeatedly with unrelenting fervor. She didn’t aim for one particular piece of flesh. She just struck wherever he was vulnerable, creating fresh bruises all over his body. Some were black and blue. Some bled briefly before his healing factor closed them up. In any case, there was plenty of pain…a pain she delivered with overwhelming authority.

“You want this pain! You need this pain, don’t you?” she went on.

“Ungh!” Daken groaned, just as the whip struck him across the face.

“Say it!” Jean barked, striking him harder on the same spot. “Your mistress asked you a question. Answer!”

“Hnn…yes!” he exclaimed.

Jean swore there was a touch of excitement mixed in with the pain. She even noticed his cock twitch accordingly, which was still semi-erect. Either his sexuality was just that flexible or there were _other_ forces at work.

_‘He’s enjoying this…embracing it, even. Is this a kink of his? Or am I just making that much of an impression?’_

It was hard to tell how deep Daken’s perversions went. Jean didn’t bother probing. She just focused on exercising the full range of her authority over him, inflicting the kind of pain such a deviant man deserved. She let herself be more reckless than usual, not holding back with every strike. She even put some extra telekinetic force behind it, creating a few extra-large wounds on his torso, legs, and arms.

The sound of whip cracking, followed by Daken’s pained moans, reverberated throughout the dungeon. Hard leather clashed with exposed flesh, creating a symphony of pain that was as punishing as it was visceral. Eventually, the Black Queen struck nearly every inch of Daken’s exposed body. The fact he was blindfolded ensured he couldn’t even brace himself. It wasn’t just exhilarating. It deepened her arousal.

“You feel it? That hard…stinging…pain?” she said in between strikes. “That’s me…giving you mercy. This pain…has purpose. It doesn’t just punish. It liberates!”

She struck him extra hard on the chest, hitting one of his nipples. That got Daken to wince harder, clenching his fists within his shackles. However, the pain only seemed to hurt to a point.

“Aaghhh! So…liberating!” he exclaimed.

“Your liberation…is my domination,” she added before striking him again.

After hitting him a few more times, she had to stop. It wasn’t because she felt Daken had endured enough punishment, though. Her arm had gotten tired and her heart was racing so fast from the adrenaline that she had to slow down. She was also so aroused that her legs barely carried her. At some point, the pleasure had to balance out the pain.

Before they got to that part though, Jean decided to exercise one last bit of dominance. Throwing the whip aside, she retrieved a couple of nipple clamps from the dresser next to the bed. She then stormed over to him, pushed him up against the wall again, and pulled off his blindfold.

“Look at me, Daken. Look your mistress in the eye,” she said with a mix of authority and seduction. “Tell me…what do you see?”

“Mistress,” he said, breathless by a mix of pain and awe. “I see…power.”

“What kind of power?” the Black Queen demanded, shoving her forearm against his neck again.

“Beautiful…righteous…power,” he told her.

“You’re goddamn right!”

As if to belabor that point, she took the two nipple clamps in hand and attached them to his nipples, which were still throbbing from the whip. Then, just as Daken winced from the discomfort, she grabbed his head and shoved it between her breasts. It marked the first time she injected a little mercy into his punishment.

“Here!” Jean told him. “ _Immerse_ yourself in my power.”

She was somewhat playful, but still plenty authoritative. She even mashed her breasts together, surrounding his face in her flesh. She also shoved her exposed tits in his face, getting him suck on them, which evoked in her the first sensations of pleasure beyond simply punishing a man who wronged her.

It was a simple, but effective act…one augmented by the rush of such dominance. Emma once told Jean that dominance during sex was like hot fudge over ice cream. It made something that was already delicious even more savory. Jean had been skeptical of such a claim, at first, but she had since been convinced.

“You feel that, Daken?” she told him, his face still buried in her breasts. “You are now _completely_ under my power.”

Jean shoved her breasts together a few more times, almost suffocating him with her cleavage, before finally pulling back and letting him breathe. When Daken finally gasped in relief, he had a dazed, yet satisfied grin on his face. Even with the presence of the nipple clamps and the various bruises from the whip that hadn’t healed, a touch of pleasure had finally entered the equation. He was now entering that special place where the lines between pain and pleasure became blurred.

Within that daze, Daken gazed upon her with a mix of reverence and desperation. It was ironic, yet fitting. He fought so hard to escape Romulus’ control. Now, he wanted to be controlled by her.

“Thank you…my Mistress,” he said.

“Don’t thank me yet,” the Black Queen said sternly. “Submitting to your mistress’ power is just the first step. Pleasing her is the next…one that requires more than just obedience.”

“I shall obey,” Daken said to her. “Whatever my Mistress requires of me…I will do.”

“Spoken like a true slave,” she said with a grin.

Jean rewarded his obedience thus far, caressing the side of his face in an affectionate gesture. Her breasts were still right in front of him, but that alone wasn’t going to be enough to satisfy her. He knew that as well as her.

By now, much of the bruises she’d caused from the whip had healed. Her arousal had also become unbearable. Her pussy ached for the kind of sex that only a submissive slave could provide. Daken’s cock, now almost fully-erect after tasting her breasts, looked ready to oblige.

Knowing he could not hope to satisfy her while chained to the wall, the Black Queen used her telekinesis to undo the locks that held the chains to the wall. She still kept his wrists bound, though, making sure they remained weighed down by the heavy shackles. Now on his feet, his body still shuddering from the pain, Jean grabbed his shoulder and shoved him towards the bed.

“March, my slave,” Jean ordered. “We shall finish your domination in the bed.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Daken said eagerly, the lingering pain doing little to slow him.

He stood fully upright like a marching soldier. Jean still pushed him around, maintaining her dominance every step of the way. Upon reaching the foot of the bed, she grabbed his shoulders again and turned him around so that he faced her. Then, she used her telekinesis to levitate him up in the air.

“As with pain, pleasure requires _submission_ ,” she said strongly.

She held him in mid-air for a few moments, stretching out his limbs and legs, rendering him more prone to her power. Even though she was somewhat rough, Daken seemed to enjoy it, grinning at the feeling of her having such a firm grip on him.

The Black Queen maintained that telekinetic hold as she practically slammed him down onto the center of the bed, pulling his arms out in the process so that his body formed a T-shape. Then, using the shackles still attached to his wrists, she attached to chains to a special locking mechanism at the upper corners of the bed. In addition, she pulled back some of the linens and used them to tie his feet together, rendering him bounce once more, albeit in a different position.

“There!” said Jean, admiring her handiwork. “That should suffice.”

“I trust your judgement, Mistress,” said Daken, sounding even more excited.

“Of course you do, slave,” she scoffed, “but your submission is only the first step.”

With her submissive secured, Jean walked over to the side of the bed next so that she hovered right over the bound man. She made sure she cast a long, imposing shadow over him. She must have looked like a titan in the light of the chamber. It had the desired effect. He continued gazing up at her with a mix of reverence and submission.

As she stood over him, Jean opened a nearby drawer and retrieved a special red candle. Then, using a touch of her Phoenix Force powers, she lit the wick and let it burn. It happened to be one of those specialized candles that melted quickly, creating a sizable pool of wax. It happened to be one of her and Scott’s favorite kinks. With Daken, though, she made sure there was extra wax.

“I’ve inflicted plenty of pain,” Jean told him as she held the burning candle up, “but going from pain to pleasure can be a _tricky_ process. In order to maximize your submission – for my benefit and yours – you must know _both_.”

The candle still in hand, she cast Daken a domineering, yet seductive glance before crawling onto the bed with him. She continued holding the candle above him, building up the anticipation. While his gaze was focused on the candle, though, she skillfully reached down to his cock and grasped it firmly. Instinctively, he tensed under her grasp. At that exact moment, though, she poured the pool of hot wax onto his chest.

“Oohhh!” he cried out in a perfect mix of pain and pleasure.

Jean felt his whole body tense in its bound state, the wax burning his exposed flesh while she skillfully stroked his cock with her free hand. As the wax hardened on his skin, still burning areas still tender from his whipping, she jerked him off to get the blood flowing into his member.

His breathing intensified. The look on his face twitched with a mix of excitement and discomfort. Still hovering over him, Jean made sure every last drop of wax had been spread over his torso. By the time it fully hardened, his dick was as hard as a rock.

“My Mistress…mercy,” gasped Daken, his face writhing from the sensations.

“You dare beg for mercy already?” Jean scoffed, pretending to be appalled.

“No!” he said instinctively. “Do _not_ grant me mercy…not yet. I crave…I need your righteous authority.”

Jean cast him an approving grin. He’d somehow descended deeper into that special daze, one in which a submissive becomes so captivated by another’s dominance that his desires were directly tied to hers. He wasn’t just a slave anymore. What he craved and she sought were no longer separate. They were one in the same now, a perfect storm of kink, as it were.

“Then, you shall have it…on my terms,” the Black Queen said.

“I’d have it no other way,” Daken told her.

Emboldened and empowered, Jean put out the candle and threw it across the room. She then stood up on the bed, casting another large shadow over her submissive, and removed her thong. He was now looking right up at her pussy, which had become unbearably hot with arousal. Streaks of feminine juices were already dripping down her inner thighs. She even saw Daken lick his lips in anticipation, as though her flesh was the only sustenance he craved.

In that moment of converged desires, Jean positioned herself over him so that both feet were planted firmly at his side. She then lowered herself down onto him, squatting right over the tip of his rigid cock. His upper body still covered with hardened wax, she grasped his waist, digging her nails into his torso. Then, with a single plunge of the hips, she drove her pussy down onto his cock.

“Ohhh yes!” Jean exclaimed, seething with a mix of power and lust.

“My…my Mistress,” Daken gasped, sounding downright enchanted as her tight folds surrounded his cock.

Exercising the full force of her authority, the Black Queen rode his cock hard and fast. There was nothing affectionate or mutual about her approach. As her hips moved, her pelvis slamming down against his, an onslaught of intense sensations coursed through her. It was just her pursuing raw, unfiltered pleasure from her slave.

_‘This is what I wanted. This man used me. Now, I’m using him and it feels fucking amazing!’_

It was a total role reversal from their previous encounter. Instead of being at his mercy, he was at hers. The only difference was that he had willingly submitted, subjecting herself to the desires of someone he’d wrong. It wasn’t just about making up for a misdeed. It was about pursuing a shared recourse, one that would balance out the past for the sake of the future.

That immediate future was very enticing, at least for Jean. She rode Daken’s cock so hard that he tensed a few times, both from the sheer force of her movements and the heat surrounding his dick. She also raked her nails along his flesh, which was still covered in hardened wax, leaving significant scratch marks along the way. She was more fervent with him than she’d been with anyone else, including the Hellfire Club’s servants.

In between the distress, though, she still sensed Daken enjoying their rough and reckless sex. He seemed to really like it rough, which she’d also sensed in him during their first encounter. He was going to enjoy it too, no matter how hard she fucked him. That was good because it meant Jean didn’t have to hold back, but if he was going to enjoy it, then it had to be on _her_ term.

“Yes! Your mistress…likes this cock!” the Black Queen seethed as she rode him harder. “This hard…throbbing cock…is _mine_ to enjoy!”

“I am…yours, Mistress,” Daken grunted.

“You…like it too!” she said, now leaning over him so that he had a better view of her bouncing breasts. “But you will…not…come. Not until…your Mistress comes!”

“I…I understand,” he said with labored breathes.

Sensing he didn’t quite grasp the extent of her authority, she slapped him across the face and rode him even harder.

“I can’t…hear you!” she shouted. “Say it, slave! Say I…come…first!”

“You come first, Mistress!” Daken immediately replied. “You…will come…first.”

He almost sounded meek, something she hadn’t heard from Daken so far. It was somewhat strange, but oddly satisfying. He was an arrogant, self-centered man by admission. The fact that she, the Black Queen, could humble him in such a pleasurable way only added to the experience.

Fueled by such feelings, Jean kept riding his cock in pursuit of an orgasm. She didn’t climax too quickly, if only to make her slave struggle to hold back. She could tell by the expression on his face that it was a real strain, fighting the urge to come before her. It meant denying himself the release he usually sought without hesitation. It must have been a major change to his usual approach, but one he seemed to enjoy.

_‘He wants it too. He really is that determined. Either I’m just that good or he’s just that deviant.’_

Whatever the case, Jean made the final push. While riding Daken’s cock hard, really working her pussy along his throbbing length, she leaned back somewhat and rubbed her clit with her free hand. That helped get her to the brink faster. She sensed Daken nearing that special limit where holding back an orgasm created real discomfort. She made sure it only went so far before she finally rewarded his obedience.

“Your Mistress…is ready to…come!” she told him.

Finally, after just a few more hard gyrations of her hips, the Black Queen plunged into that wondrous ocean of ecstasy. She arched her lower back, dug her knees and toes into the bed, and let out a moan of euphoria that echoed throughout the chamber.

It was so raw and intense, the hot waves of sensations coursing up through her body. The folds of her pussy throbbed mercilessly around Daken’s cock, as if to draw pleasure from his flesh into her own. She made it a point to exercise the full range of her dominance, focusing entirely on maximizing her pleasure over that of her slave. He submitted. She took what she wanted. That made it that much more satisfying.

It was the culmination of utter dominance, one that turned punishment into pleasure and retribution into resolution. After what Jean had been through with Daken, it was kinky, but fitting. Upon soaking in every last trace of ecstasy, she finally turned her attention back to the submissive who had willingly denied himself for his Mistress’ pleasure.

“Mistress…are you satisfied?” asked Daken intently.

“Yes…to a point,” Jean replied, “but enough to warrant a _reprieve_ for my slave.”

In an act that let Daken know she was a merciful Mistress, she rose up off his dick, her pussy still throbbing somewhat from the pleasure. She then repositioned her body so that she was kneeling at his side, his throbbing cock still erect and covered in her juices. She could tell from the way it kept throbbing that he badly needed his release. In an act of mercy, she granted him that.

With her gloved hand, the Black Queen grabbed his cock and firmly stroked it. She even added some extra pressure from her telekinesis, creating the necessary pressure to send her slave to the brink.

“Oohhh Mistress!” Daken moaned, his face contorting in anticipation.

“Go on, salve. Come!” Jean said, making it sound like a direct order.

Right on cue, whether by obedience or pent up desire, Daken climaxed. He let out a feral moan, not unlike that of his father whenever he achieved orgasm. It was so similar that Jean would’ve found it humorous if it hadn’t resulted in such a spectacle.

She felt his cock throb in her hand as he shot out a thick stream of cum right up into the air. Jean held on tightly so that most of the fluid landed on his chest and torso, mixing with the hardened. It was a pretty impressive load, even for someone with a healing factor. She watched him writhe under the weight of feeling, the earlier discomfort quickly giving way to overwhelming pleasure.

In the world of S&M, going from one extreme to another made for the best possible experience. When Daken finally settled, his body relaxing in a daze of satisfaction, he looked more content than any slave could hope to in the face of such domination. Seeking to belabor that domination, Jean gathered some of the cum up with her gloved hand and licked it up while he watched on.

“Mmm…a good slave tastes extra sweet,” the Black Queen said, licking her lips seductively.

“I’m proud…to be your slave, my Mistress,” Daken said in his daze. “Your pleasure…is mine.”

“As it should be,” she said, as though it were the most logical thing in the world. “Any mistress can draw pleasure from a slave. To make a slave want to pleasure their Mistress…that is a true measure of dominance.”

Having licked up the cum, Jean crawled over to the still-bound Daken. He looked so comfortable in his restraints, showing no desire to escape. He seemed to enjoy it too much. Since no self-respecting dominatrix could let a submissive get that content, she prepared to pursue more desires. As much as she’d enjoyed her dominance-fueled orgasm, the Black Queen still caved more.

“Tell me, my slave,” she said with a mix of section and authority. “Do you still wish to satisfy your Mistress?”

“Yes!” Daken said without hesitation. “I desire nothing else.”

“Are you sure?” she said, now clenching his face firmly. “Tell me you want to satisfy me!”

“Mistress, I want to satisfy you!” he said, practically yelling into her ear. “I want you to ravage me until you are completely, utterly satisfied!”

She maintained her firm grip on his face for a moment, pretending to ponder whether he’d convinced her of his dedication. She could’ve slapped him again and demanded his scream at the top of his lungs how much he wanted to please her. However, she opted to be a merciful Mistress.

“Very well,” the Black Queen said to him. “If you’re as good a slave as you claim, then you must continue to prove it.”

Following a fresh surge of burning lust and dominating desire, Jean got up and stood over Daken again with her towering form. She then positioned herself so that she straddled his face, her still-dripping pussy right in his face. Once in position, she reached back and grabbed his carefully-styled hair so she could shove his face into her heat.

“Here! Eat my pussy out!” the Black Queen said with dominating authority.

“Mmf!” was all Daken got out before his face was completely muffled.

Like a good slave, he didn’t hesitate for a second. He immediately began gorging on her womanly flesh, plunging his tongue into her folds and tasting her heat. He wasn’t gentle or caring like Scott. He wasn’t reckless or messy like her other lovers, either. Daken treated giving her oral sex like a mission, one handed down from an ultimate authority. That meant pursuing it to the utmost with complete focus.

The results didn’t just get Jean’s pussy extra moist. It genuinely surprised her, how thorough and focused he ways. She swore Daken’s tongue was longer than average, really getting in deep and stimulating those extra-sensitive parts of her pussy. It was enough to make her gasp sharply as a fresh round of sensations shot up through her body.

“Yes!” Jean moaned.

As she voiced her delight, she found herself riding his face, getting Daken to use that tongue all over her pussy. He left no part of her flesh unstimulated, from her outer folds to her clit to her deepest depths. Everything he did emphasized her pleasure. It was so effective that she felt another orgasm coming on. While not as intense as the first, in terms of build-up, it was every bit as enjoyable.

“Ohhh yes!” the Black Queen cried out. “That’s a very…good…slave!”

She didn’t let Daken know he made her climax so fast, but it was difficult to hide. She arched her back again, let out a deep moan, and even pulled his hair as she came. The way the inner folds of her pussy throbbed, coupled with the release of more juices, made it obvious just how good a job he’d done. Either he was just that dedicated or just that good. Given his _proclivities_ , it was probably a combination of the two.

“Mmm…Mistress,” Daken managed to get out, his voice still muffled.

“Silence, slave!” Jean said, despite her euphoric overtone. “Your dedication and skills…are noted.”

Having a second orgasm so soon after the first added encouragement, not that Jean needed it. However, if Daken insisted on overachieving as her slave, then she might as well push him.

Still short of breath, her pussy throbbing from the pleasure, she rose up off Daken and prepared her next move. Before he could say anything to further ingratiate himself, she grabbed the panties she’d discarded earlier and shoved them into his mouth. To further ensure he’d be silent, she also retrieve a ball-gag that had been on the nearby table and shoved it into his mouth as well.

“Mmf!” Daken said, his voice muffled once more.

“No more talking,” she said sternly. “You’ll remain silent _and_ keep tasting my pussy as I have my way with you.”

She made it sound like a punishment, but Jean could already see Daken grinning through the gag. It was an indirect way of rewarding him for being such a good slave. With her, punishment and pleasure need not be separate.

“I’m going to keep fucking you, dominating you, and everything in between,” she proclaimed. “You’re going to lay here – bound, gagged, and submissive – until I’m finished.”

Jean didn’t bother asking if he understood or was ready. Him being her slave and her being the dominant, his understanding was redundant. Her only focus now was his dick and how she much she could push his healing factor.

With her goal being the maximization of her pleasure and his submission, Jean retrieved one more item from the nearby dresser. It was a specialized cock-ring, complete with a vibrating stud for clitoral stimulation. Daken’s cock was still semi-hard after his release, but his healing factor had already kicked in. Jean still made it a point to get him fully erect again, using her tits to tit-fuck him briefly to get him ready.

“You’ve got a good healing factor,” she said as she worked his cock between her fleshy mounds. “Let’s see how good your _stamina_ is!”

Her lurid tone let Daken know that she intended to push him. Even with the gag in his mouth, he didn’t look the least bit concerned. She still sensed him eager to please his mistress. His own comfort was secondary, at best.

After slithering his cock between her tits for a few minutes, he was fully erect again. Jean then put on the cock ring, which was extra snug to ensure that he stayed hard, regardless how much she pushed him. Usually, she had to be careful with cock rings because if they were too tight for too long, it could be painful and downright damaging. Emma and Mary Jane had shared multiple stories about elaborate S&M acts going horribly wrong. Jean wanted to avoid that, but Daken’s healing factor gave her plenty of flexibility.

Once the cock ring was secured, his dick now throbbing hard with bulging veins, she turned on the vibrating stud to its highest setting. Then, she straddled his waist again, propping herself up on her knees so that his cock aligned perfectly with her pussy. Upon feeling the tip brush against her outer folds, she plunged her hips downward and began riding him again.

“Ohhh yes!” exclaimed the Black Queen, seething with intent and lust. “Take it, slave! Take it all! All your Mistress’ lust!”

“Mmmfffff!” moaned Daken through the gag, his voice still echoing with pain and pleasure.

While he walked that fine line between sensations, Jean focused solely on pursuing more pleasure. There were no theatrics, spectacles, or tactics. It was just her, a dominant using her slave’s submissive state, to pursue ultimate satisfaction with complete freedom. It was okay for her to be selfish, reckless, and uninhibited. Such were the perks of a skilled dominant.

The Black Queen fucked the bound Daken with focused fervor, gyrating her hips as her pussy slithered along the length of his dick. Raw, chaotic sensations of bliss followed. The added stimulation of the vibrating stud on her clit helped supplement those sensations. She added to those too by hungrily fondling her breasts, pinching her nipples in just the right way.

The bed rocked and so did Daken. His gaze never diverted from her. His focus on her never waned. She made sure he saw the fruits of his submission, taking the form of a Mistress achieving the pleasure she sought.

“Ooh you’re doing it, slave!” she cried out. “You’re going to…make your Mistress…come!”

Jean was even louder than the first time, letting out the kind of primal moans most only heard from Logan. That seemed to have an impact on Daken, his gaze on her taking a new level of reverence. As she climaxed again, she gave her nipples an extra hard pinch and she leaned back and the kind of moan that every submissive hoped to hear from their dominant.

It evoked a special kind of pleasure, one that went beyond the throbbing of her pussy and the hot sensations coursing through her body. The Black Queen shuddered under the weight of both the pleasure and the power, a truly intoxicating combination if ever there was one. It took a skilled dominant and a truly willing submissive to experience such a feeling. Daken’s ability and willingness to submit to her was both impressive and satisfying.

_‘He knows how to dominate. He knows how to submit. Daken embraces so many extremes, sexually and otherwise. He is a kinky, yet dedicated man. The good he could do if he channeled those kinks…’_

There were a great many possibilities for Daken, beyond his submission. There would be plenty of time to contemplate that, but only after she was done with him. She still had plenty of desire to vent and Daken was still at her mercy.

No longer concerning herself with her submissive’s concerns, the Black Queen went to work venting the full range of her lusts. That involved riding Daken’s cock for multiple rounds of focused lust, each culminating in another orgasm. It was all about quantity over quality, treating her submissive like her personal sex toy. It couldn’t have been comfortable for much of the process, but Daken didn’t seem to mind. Even when he tensed in discomfort, his expression always reflected the bliss of a willing slave.

Jean tested that loyalty to the utmost, pushing both his cock and his healing factor. After soaking in another orgasm, she turned around and rode him again in a reverse cowgirl position, making sure he could see her ass bouncing up and down as his cock pumped into her pussy. That didn’t just lead to another orgasm for her. It got him to climax as well, albeit one that further blurred the pain/pleasure line due to the cock ring. As far as she was concerned, though, his orgasms were bonus. Her pleasure still took priority.

Again and again, she rode his cock to peaks of of ecstasy. Sometimes she went hard and fast. Sometimes she slowed down to really add some extra force to her movements. At one point, she even used some targeted telekinesis to make her pussy extra tight around Daken’s cock. It was a little trick she and Scott had figured out shortly after they joined the Hellfire Club. It often drove her husband wild during extra-passionate nights. It surprised Daken, but in the best possible way. He climaxed again on the spot.

“More! Give your Mistress…more!” Jean commanded. “My domination will continue…until I am satisfied!”

“Mmf!” Daken gasped, his muffled moans laced with submissive bliss.

She rode him for several more rounds. The Black Queen quickly lost count of how many times or how many orgasms she experienced. She was fairly certain, though, that she couldn’t have been so hard or so reckless for a man who didn’t have a healing factor. While she wasn’t sure just how hard she’d pushed him, the fact she sensed him climax multiple times hinted that she could’ve gone harder.

Eventually, her own stamina caught up with her. By the time she made the final push, a visible layer of sweat had formed on her skin. Various muscles began to strain, including a few not usually exercised within the Danger Room. She also felt the strain in Daken’s cock, which was throbbing so hard that she could feel the bulging veins in her pussy as she rode it. She saw more strain in his expression the longer it went on, but still didn’t let up. One more orgasm was within reach and she was determined to get it.

“One more!” Jean gasped through the final round of exertion. “One more…and your submission…will be complete!”

A renewed eagerness consumed Daken. He let out more muffled moans, eagerly conveying how much he wanted to see his Mistress satisfied. As Jean rode his cock to one final peak, she leaned over and held him by the throat, partially choking him in one last show of dominance before she hit her peak. When it finally arrived, she dug her nails into his neck and arched her body in one last ascension to ecstasy.

“OHHH YES!” she exclaimed.

It wasn’t just a cry of euphoria from another blissful orgasm. It was a cry of victory, marking the completion of her domination over Daken. Her desires had been met, her lust fully sated. It was one of those rare, yet uniquely satisfying feelings that could only come in an S&M dungeon.

After savoring every last moment of ecstasy, the domineering persona of the Black Queen gave way to Jean Grey-Summers once more. Short of breath, but very content, she cast Daken an approving grin as she rose up off his cock. She then used her telekinesis to remove the ball gag and her panties from his mouth. After adjusting his jaw and gasping heavily, he looked up at her with continued reference.

“Are you pleased, Mistress?” Daken asked, dazed by the pain and pleasure.

“I am,” Jean said definitively. “You have served your Mistress well. For that, I release you.”

As the various sexual fluids spilled out of her, she undid the cock ring, finally giving it some much-needed rest. It was bright red and soaked with her juices, the veins still throbbing even as it settled. Daken let out a sigh of relief, finally emerging from his submissive daze. He even looked content, more so than he did before they arrived. For someone so unapologetically deviant, it was quite a feat.

Jean, still winded from so much sexual exertion, untied the sheets securing his feet. When she went to undo the shackles, though, Daken just grinned smugly and laughed.

“That’s okay. I’ve got this,” he told her.

Then, with an oddly casual demeanor, Daken drew his claws and used them to undo the shackles on his wrists. Jean, despite being exhausted, laughed somewhat as well. Now leaning back on her arms as she sat near the foot of the bed, she shook her head in amusement.

“Wait…you could’ve freed yourself this whole time?” Jean asked.

“You sound surprised. Have you forgotten who my father is or how much he _hates_ being trapped?” he joked.

“No, it’s just…I’d hoped my bondage skills were more advanced at this point.”

“I wouldn’t worry. Your skills are beyond dispute and trust me. I would know,” said Daken wryly.

She laughed again. Daken was definitely back to his arrogant self, complete with his colorful attitude towards deviance. He was still an enigma in terms of intentions, but Jean felt as though she’d gained a more _intimate_ understanding of him than most.

“Although if you like, I could get you some adamantium shackles from Madripoor,” he added, now relaxing with his back against the headboard.

“That’s okay. I think I’ve got enough to work with,” she assured him.

“Indeed,” Daken said. “I admit, I didn’t think you had this side to you, Jean Grey-Summers.”

“What can I say? I’ve developed some pretty crazy kinks lately.”

“It’s not just that. In my experience, people either embrace their deviance too much or deny it too ardently. You, however, seem to have struck a perfect balance. You can be a hero, a friend, and a lover when you need to. You can just as easily be a hardcore, sex-crazed bitch.”

“Thanks…I think,” said Jean somewhat awkwardly.

“No thought necessary,” said Daken. “That might be the highest compliment I’ve ever given someone. I truly admire that in you, Jean. I only hope that I too can one day achieve such balance.”

Jean smiled again and even blushed a little. After the kinky things she’d just done, her blushing about _anything_ was quite an accomplishment. It also seemed fitting. It even gave her hope that Daken might one day walk a similar path to that of his father.

He had talked about balance earlier. He’d also made obvious that his capacity for deviance was much greater than Logan’s. At the same time, though, Jean sensed in him the potential to be something more. She wasn’t sure how much she had helped him in forging a better path, but at least they’d enjoyed some kinky sex along the way.

“I hope you find it too,” Jean told him, “and if you ever need help from me, Logan, or the X-men, then you know where to find us.”

“It’ll likely be some time before I’m _that_ balanced, but I thank you for getting me started,” said Daken, smiling back. “I still have a number of personal affairs to complete before I start making such connections. And before you offer to help, understand that I must handle these affairs on my own.”

“I understand completely,” said Jean.

“Also, I’m keeping your panties,” he told her, holding up the thong she’d stuffed in his mouth earlier. “That part is non-negotiable.”

“Like father like son, indeed.”

* * *

**THE END**


End file.
